


The Prospect of an Eternity with Selphie Tilmitt

by colobonema



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Dungeon, F/M, Gen, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Invisibility, Magic, Sorceresses, Undead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colobonema/pseuds/colobonema
Summary: Irvine inherits an unexpected gift from his grandfather - the Kinneas family ghost, who would like to point out that actually, she's technically undead, thank you very much. AU.
Relationships: Irvine Kinneas/Selphie Tilmitt, Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed story, cross-posted from FFN. Thoughts & comments are super welcome! - colobonema

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter I**

In a corridor in North Deling General Hospital, in the chilly early hours of a Tuesday morning, Irvine Kinneas slipped his wide-brimmed black stetson off his head and clutched it to his chest with one hand. He double-checked the removable name plate attached to the wall, which read _Mr. E. Kinneas,_ and noted the small red letters at one corner: _DNR._ Irvine knew what that meant. A Do Not Resuscitate order. He took an unsteady breath and pushed the thin blue curtain to one side.

The man lying in the bed moved slightly, and Irvine saw that there were tubes leading to several electrodes on his chest, and another tube connecting an intravenous drip to his left arm. Ernest's thin face was barely a shell of the man Irvine knew and loved, sunken, sallow and paper-like, but his keen blue eyes met Irvine's with the same warmth they always had.

"Hey, gramps." He walked over to the bed and brushed Ernest's withered fingers gently with his own. "Sorry I took so long gettin' here. Wasn't sure if I'd make it in time."

Ernest managed a small smile. "Couldn't go until I talked to you, Irv," he rasped, wincing painfully.

Irvine stroked his hand and shushed him. "Don't try to speak if it hurts."

"I gotta. I gotta say... sorry."

Irvine's lips twisted into a lopsided smile. "You can't help dying, gramps."

Ernest moved his head very slightly from side to side. "Not that." He took a slow, laborious breath. "You'll inherit something from me that... Well, it'll be a shock, Irv."

"You been squirrelin' away the cash for me or somethin'? I'm touched."

Ernest shook his head again. "She would've gone to your dad, if he hadn't died first. You're still so young... It'll be a long road for you."

"She?"

Irvine felt Ernest's fingers squeeze his hand weakly. "Irv, don't resent her. It's not her fault. Just try to get along." His grandfather's eyes drifted off towards the foot of the bed, and he smiled fondly. "Ah, come on, Selphie. You know that's not what I meant."

Irvine stared at his grandfather. _His mind's going. It can't be long now._ "What, gramps? Who's Selphie?"

Ernest smiled faintly. "You'll find out as soon as I go, lad. And I really am... sorry." His eyes fluttered closed, and Irvine watched numbly as the rise and fall of Ernest's skinny chest became slower and slower, then stilled altogether.

The heart monitor let out a long, uninterrupted tone, and Irvine closed his eyes. He'd been an orphan for almost twenty years, but he'd never truly felt it until this moment. Ernest Kinneas, the man who had raised him, was no more, and it... hurt. Hurt like hell.

He sensed a flash of color at his side and turned, startled, to see a petite young woman in a bright yellow sundress, her mid-length brown hair flicking up improbably high at the ends. Her tear-stricken face was fixed on Ernest's pale body.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Irvine blurted out in shock.

"Ta-da," she said weakly, and made a half-hearted attempt at jazz hands. A tear dripped off her chin as she turned her gaze back to the bed. "Oh Ernie... I can't believe you've really gone."

"What- _what_? Who are you?"

"Selphie Tilmitt. I've known you since you were a baby, but... well, you don't know me." She wiped her wet face with a dainty hand and shot a swift glance at the curtain that demarcated the room off from the corridor to the main ward. "Listen, Irvy. The heart monitor is linked up with the computer in the nurses' office. They'll know by now that he's passed. One of them will come in here any minute. She won't be able to see me. Just act normal. I'll explain when we're alone."

He stared at her blankly. "What? What are you talking about?"

He heard the sound of the curtain hooks scraping along the rail, and a nurse, a tall, middle-aged woman in pale pink scrubs, entered the room.

"Excuse me, sir." She walked to Ernest's side and held two fingers to the side of his neck, then gave a small nod; to herself, Irvine thought.

The nurse stepped back and stood barely an inch away from Selphie, without acknowledging her at all. Selphie raised her eyebrows at Irvine in an I-told-you-so sort of way.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Kinneas."

"Thank you, ma'am."

She held his gaze, and Irvine could muster some admiration for the genuine sympathy in her eyes; she must have this conversation almost every day of the year, after all. "Please take as long as you like to say goodbye. When you're ready, come to the desk and I'll give you a run-through of the documents you'll need to register the death. Once the paperwork is signed, Mr. Kinneas Senior will be moved to the morgue."

He nodded. "Understood. Thank you."

She departed and closed the curtain gently, and Irvine heard her footsteps fade away. He looked at Selphie suspiciously. "She really couldn't see you."

"Nope."

"So... what? Am I supposed to believe you're some kind of ghost?"

Selphie fiddled with her hair. "Well... technically, no, because I never actually died. But for all intents and purposes, I guess you can think of me as the Kinneas family ghost."

"What the... hell?"

"It's a long story. I'll explain in the car."

Irvine bristled at her assumption. "At what point did I invite you into my car?"

"Sorry, Irvy. You don't have a choice." She gave a sad smile. "Let's focus on paying our respects to Ernie right now, okay?"

" _Our_ respects?"

"Yes," she said firmly, and turned to gaze sorrowfully at Ernest.

They stood in silence for a long while, and Irvine felt a tear trickle slowly down his own face. He stepped closer to the bed and laid a soft kiss on Ernest's forehead. "So long, gramps." His voice broke.

Selphie's head was bowed. "I'm going to miss you, Ern." Under her breath, she added bitterly, "You lucky, lucky bastard. Going the one place I can never follow."

* * *

Irvine blinked his way through the nurse's explanation of Ernest's death certificate, thoroughly distracted by the sounds of Selphie's muffled sobs from two feet or so behind him. Jamming his cowboy hat back on his head, he walked in a daze back through the corridor and down the stairs, dimly aware of the yellow blur floating gently behind him like a giant butterfly. He didn't turn around. _If I ignore her, she'll go away_ , he told himself somewhat desperately. He crossed over to his car, one of the few vehicles in the almost-empty parking lot at this ungodly hour, and quickly got in, pointedly refusing to open the passenger door for Selphie.

He lurched sideways with shock when she emerged _through_ the closed door, wafting through it as if she were made of smoke, and neatly resolidified as soon as she reached the passenger seat.

"What the hell did you just do?" he spluttered.

Selphie had the gall to look affronted. "Well, excuse me! It's not like I can grab the handle, is it?"

Irvine turned the key in the ignition, and the engine started to hum. "All right, start talking. Who _are_ you?"

Selphie twisted one of her huge, bouncy curls round a forefinger as she appeared to mull over where to begin. "Do you know much about your great-great-grandfather? Herbert E. Kinneas?"

Irvine steered the car out of the parking lot and onto the deserted road. "Gramps' grandfather? The treasure hunter, right? Not a lot."

"Did you ever hear that he lost the use of his legs for two years?"

"No." He glanced at her with irritation. "Any chance you could get to the point sometime soon?"

"Okay." She spread her arms out wide, the fingers of her left hand passing cleanly through Irvine's ponytail. "Picture the scene. It is the summer of my nineteenth year, in the last golden days of the great Holy Dollet Empire, three decades before the devastating Lunar Cry of-"

"Cut the melodramatics. I'm pretty short on patience right now," he warned.

Selphie pouted. "Ugh, fine. So my best friend, Herbie, comes to my house with another one of his crazy ideas. He's heard about a lost treasure hoard rumored to be hidden in a tomb in North Centra. I'm even more crazy, so I say 'pack your bag, for we leave tonight!'. We take the ferry to Centra and start exploring the tomb. Half a day in, we get to an intersection of two paths. One way gives me an eerie feeling, so I say let's take the other. Herbie disagrees. I say I'm not budging. He says let's toss a coin for it. We do. I win. But then Herbie gets that goddamn reckless Kinneas glint in his eye, grabs my wrist, and drags me towards the path I don't want to go down."

She narrowed her eyes and glared at the empty road in front.

"And then?" Irvine prompted.

"We take a few steps, and the floor of the tomb cracks and collapses under us. Herbie manages to hold onto part of a ledge. I'm hanging onto his ankle, dangling above this huge dark cavern underneath me." Selphie gave a small shudder. "Then something starts moving down below. I look down, and it's pitch black, but I can somehow see this... this... _thing_. Black wings and... claws. It sends out this beam of black light, if that makes sense, which goes straight through me, and I feel like - like - " She shook her head. "No, I've never been able to describe it. But the next thing I know, my hand goes straight through Herbie's ankle. I can't grab hold of anything, I'm just... floating."

"So you died?"

Selphie's brow creased into a frown. "But Irvy, I didn't. I would have noticed if I had, don't you think? I would've drifted away from my body, or something. It would have hurt. I'm not dead. I'm just... cut off from the world."

"What happened next?"

"Herbie's lost all feeling in both of his legs, so he crawls back to the tomb entrance on his arms, with me screaming at him all the while that I can't touch anything, I can't feel the ground. We get back to the nearest town, eventually. That's where we realize that only Herbie can see and hear me. No-one else."

"And it just stayed like that?"

She nodded. "I watched Herbie recover the ability to walk, then marry, have kids, grow into an old man, and when he died, your great-grandpa Travis turned to me and said 'Who the hell are you?'. And so it continued for a hundred and twenty years, and... here we are."

Irvine frowned as he steered the car round a sharp corner. "I don't get it. Is it just the Kinneas men?"

"It seems to go through the bloodline, to the eldest child. It just so happens that they were all boys so far. When your mom was pregnant with you, I was really hoping you'd be a girl." She smiled brightly at him. "No offense."

"So what happens if I die without having any kids? I'm in the military. That could easily happen. Hell, I've been shot twice."

Selphie pursed her lips. "I've wondered that for a long time. No idea. Personally I hope that I'd wink out of existence, but knowing my luck I'd probably go to your idiot cousin Randy."

"And are you _always_ there? Don't I get a break?"

"Yeah, um..." Selphie scratched her nose. "Sorry, Irvy. We can't go more than about fifty feet away from each other."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "Just can't. Try it if you want. It's like gravity or something."

"That's..." Irvine trailed off, thoroughly appalled.

"I mean, I'm not a _total_ third wheel. Ernie barred me from the bedroom when your grandma was still alive. I always used to go to another room. So I'll make myself scarce during your, y'know, shenanigans."

Irvine raised an eyebrow. "Shenanigans?"

"When you want to spend some special time with a lady." She eyed his ponytail thoughtfully. "Or a gentleman caller. I don't judge."

"It'll be ladies," he said firmly. "And I should damn well think so. I also want you to promise _right now_ that you'll give me privacy in the bathroom," he added as an afterthought.

Selphie looked surprised at this request. "All right, if that's what you want. But I bet you won't care after a couple of decades. Ernie and I had some of our best conversations when he was taking a shi-"

Irvine lifted one hand up from the wheel and tilted it towards her face. "I do _not_ want to hear the end of that sentence."

"Please yourself," she huffed.

They drove on in silence for a few minutes before Irvine asked, "Why didn't he tell me about you years ago? I could've used a little more preparation."

"Would you have believed him?"

He considered this. "...No."

"Well, there's your answer, Irvy. He felt bad about it, believe me."

Irvine turned onto Vinzer Deling Boulevard, where the streetlights were partially obscured by the spreading branches of the broad Galbadian plane trees. "This is too weird. _You're_ weird. A freak."

Selphie rounded on him, her green eyes dark with fury. "Watch your mouth, young lad! I'm undead, _forever,_ because of your great-great-grandfather's incompetence! You think this is the life I would have chosen for myself? Huh? _Huh?_ "

He kept his eyes on the road and shook his head. "You're a stress-induced hallucination. I'm deranged with grief."

She let out a sigh. "This is just as strange for me as it is for you, y'know."

Irvine snorted. "I sincerely doubt that."

"But it _is_. The idea of getting used to a new person, after having only Ernie to talk to for the last forty-three years... We were practically part of each other. It's like someone chopped off my leg and said 'here, have a new one.'"

He shot her a sidelong glance. "You're comparing me to a leg?"

She looked him up and down. "Maybe more of an arm. You're all lanky and... elbowy."

Irvine didn't feel that this was worthy of a response, and the last ten minutes of the drive were mercifully quiet as Selphie stared out of the window into the early dawn light.

The sun was almost fully risen by the time he had parked and was walking up the steps to his third-floor apartment. Irvine paused by the door and turned to face Selphie wearily. "I guess you're comin' in, then."

Her eyes creased up in an apologetic smile. "If it makes it feel any less intrusive, I'll wait for you to invite me."

Irvine thought this over for a moment, and briefly considered slamming the door in her face for a few hours; but mired in the fog of his exhaustion, he simply gave up. "Selphie, would you like to come in?"

She beamed at him gratefully. "Yes, please."


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter II**

"Morning, Irvy."

A sweet female voice broke through his grogginess, and he lazily opened his eyes in anticipation - _Did I bring someone back last night? -_ then promptly screwed them tight shut again.

Selphie was hovering an imperceptible distance above his bedsheets, giving the impression that she was lying in bed next to him. The sight of her was too much: she was all glossy brown curls, luminous green eyes, and... legs. A lot of legs.

He gave a long, drawn-out groan. _She's still here, then._ "Selphie, can you not lie so damn close?"

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Why not?"

He shifted uncomfortably under the blanket. "There's this thing that happens to guys when they wake up. Have you ever heard the expression 'morning wood'?"

"Huh?" Her eyes widened in delight. "Ohhhh, that's so cute! You've got a boner!"

Scowling, Irvine reached through her head, grabbed a pillow, and placed it over his crotch.

Selphie snickered. "Aw, don't get all bashful. It sure takes me back, though. Been a long time since I saw Ern sporting one of those. When you get older, the blood doesn't flow to the necessary parts so easily, if you get my-"

Irvine sat bolt upright in revulsion. "For the love of all that's holy Selphie, _do not_ start telling me about my grandfather's erectile function. Have some goddamn respect for the dead!"

She tilted her head and looked disappointed. "Wow, it's a real shame you didn't inherit Ernie's sense of humor."

He hurled the pillow at her, and Selphie cackled loudly as it sailed straight through her chest and landed on the floor. "Fine, fine, I'll give you some alone-time in here to take care of that."

"Don't bother. I'm going to have a shower." _A cold one,_ he added internally.

When he emerged from the bathroom, his long hair damp, and strode into the kitchen while fastening the last two buttons on his shirt, Irvine was greeted by the disconcerting spectacle of a headless Selphie. She was apparently inspecting the contents of his food cupboards by pressing her entire face through each door in turn.

"Do you mind not doing that?" he asked tetchily.

"Well, how else am I going to see inside?" She withdrew her head and turned round to face him. "Also, why do you only have coffee, crackers, and beer in your house?"

"Because until yesterday I was camped out in a forest in Northwest Galbadia with the rest of the fourteenth regiment. I only stopped by here last night to change my clothes and pick up my car. Seeing gramps breathe his last took priority over grocery shopping, okay?"

"No need to snap at me," she replied primly. "I don't think you should eat the crackers, by the way. They went out of date two years ago."

"I'll eat what I damn well like." Just to spite her, he walked over to the cupboard and ripped open the packet of crackers, regretting it only slightly when his first bite crumbled into dusty nothingness inside his mouth.

Selphie sent him a long, reproachful look as he doggedly finished the whole packet. "So... what's the plan? When do you go back to the G-Army? You're a sniper, right? Are we going to a war zone?" Irvine disliked the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. War wasn't something to look forward to. He'd have to make that very clear to her.

He shook his head. "I requested compassionate leave as soon as I heard gramps was on his way out. They gave me three weeks."

"Oka-a-y." She smiled encouragingly. "What are we going to do for the next three weeks?"

Irvine turned his back to her and paced over to the landline phone in his living room. " _We_ are not going to do anything. _I,_ however, have got a funeral to organize."

* * *

Over the following three days, Irvine had to grudgingly admit that Selphie's presence was rather useful when it came to sorting through the few remaining personal items in Ernest's nursing home bedroom. She immediately located his grandfather's address book, and piped up with helpful comments such as "Not her, she died last March," and "Oh, he won't be able to come, he's just had a triple heart bypass," when he spent time rifling through it in an attempt to start putting together the attendance list for Ernest's funeral.

The day of the funeral was cloudy and gray, the air filled with the kind of dampness that made Irvine feel lethargic and aimless. His grandfather's funeral was a modest affair held at North Deling Crematorium, with around thirty of Ernest's remaining relatives and friends in attendance. The turnout was somewhat higher than Irvine had anticipated. _How many would come to mine if I died tomorrow?_ he found himself wondering darkly, and the depressing answer was that he had no idea.

Irvine stubbornly kept his stetson on during the service, despite a couple of disapproving glances thrown his way. He was sure that Ernest would have chuckled at the sight. Besides, it matched well with his black suit. Selphie occupied the empty seat next to him, occasionally snuffling back tears.

At the reception afterwards, Selphie drifted off to listen to conversations among the attendees, while Irvine politely replied to a string of condolences from sympathetic distant relatives and two rather cute nurses from Ernest's nursing home. When he was briefly left alone, with his back to the room, Selphie floated over and hovered gently at his side.

"How're you holding up, Irvy?"

"So-so. I'm not sure who half of these people are."

"Not _one_ of them came to visit Ernie in the last ten years, I can tell you that," Selphie said with a hint of bitterness. She sidled closer. "Your great-auntie Bethany is going around saying how she thinks your hat is 'inappropriate attire' for a funeral."

Irvine took a sip of his tonic water. "Then it's a good thing she doesn't know there's an insensitive hussy floating about the place in a bright yellow dress," he muttered.

"Ha _ha_ ," responded Selphie sarcastically. "You know I would've changed outfits if I physically could. Ankle-length black dress, full veil, the whole shebang. Ernie understood that." She sniffed. "I sure miss him."

"Yeah."

"He was ready to go, you know."

Irvine closed his eyes. "Selphie, don't."

"Well, he _was_. He knew it was time. He was looking forward to it. Can't say I blame him." Her tone was wistful. Irvine didn't want to hear any more, and started to move away from her.

Selphie hissed and narrowed her eyes, looking strangely feline all of a sudden. "Bethany. Incoming."

Irvine turned around and smiled politely at his great aunt, her lavender-rinsed hair impeccably curled around her haughty face. "It was a lovely service, Irvine," she said insincerely. "We'll all miss Ernest terribly. He's left the biggest hole in our lives."

Selphie snorted and declared loudly, "It's all bullshit, Irvy. She last saw Ernie twelve years ago, and that ended badly when she threw a bacon sandwich at him because he refused to make Randy the main beneficiary of his will instead of you. She's a grabby, self-entitled-"

Irvine tipped his hat at Bethany, enjoying the brief flicker of displeasure in her eyes at his choice of headwear, and said sweetly, "Well, you know gramps always did say there's no hole that can't be filled by a good ol' bacon sandwich, auntie."

Bethany's face changed from bafflement to shock and finally, mortification. "Did- did he now?"

He nodded and arranged his features into a look of innocent confusion. "All the time. Never really understood why, though."

She mumbled something inaudible and scuttled away, and Irvine met Selphie's triumphant gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"I really enjoyed that. You're all kinds of awesome, Irvy."

Irvine shrugged at her. It was a hollow victory for him, but seeing Selphie so absurdly pleased was oddly reassuring. He turned back to the drinks table and poured himself another tonic.

* * *

Irvine returned to his apartment in the aftermath of the funeral feeling drained, empty; and yet at the same time jangling with a nervous energy that he needed to find an outlet for, and soon. Clearing out Ernest's room and organizing the funeral had given him something to do. Now, he was at a complete loss. He paced back and forth in the kitchen while Selphie rattled on about the topics that various relatives had been gossiping about during the reception.

"I'm stressed," he announced abruptly. "I need a drink."

"You've still got some beers in the fridge."

He shot her an irritated look. "I mean out on the town. I need to go to a bar."

"Ooh." Her eyes sparkled. "Are you going out to pick up women?"

Irvine glowered at her. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not changin' my ways just because you're around."

"'Course you shouldn't! I'm excited. I haven't been to a bar in _decades._ "

He pulled his beige suede coat off the hook next to the door and shrugged it on. "Don't cramp my style."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Irvy," she promised as she floated backwards through the closed door a few paces ahead of him.

* * *

An hour later, Irvine stood clutching a whiskey on the rocks as he surveyed his prospects for the night at Elvoret's, a notorious pick-up joint in central Deling. At his side, a wide-eyed Selphie was practically buzzing with excitement. "Irvy! I think that one's interested. She's totally checking you out." She pointed at a tall, slender woman at the far end of the bar with short, straight black hair who was valiantly trying to meet Irvine's eye.

"Yeah, well, I've already been there," he admitted quietly into his drink.

Selphie beamed in admiration. "You _stud!_ What was it like? Wait, wait, she's coming over."

"Hi, Kinneas." The woman's red-painted lips curved into a seductive smile.

"Hey, Katia."

She leaned forwards. "Didn't know you were back in town. How about a repeat performance of last month?"

"I'm not really in the mood." That was a lie. He was. Just not with her. A month ago, he had found her enthralling, enticing; tonight, she left him feeling flat.

Katia raised a meticulously plucked eyebrow at him. "What are you doing here, then?"

He took a long sip of whiskey, and felt the ice rattle around as he neared the bottom. "Drowning my grief. My gramps died."

She looked genuinely taken aback. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." One of her hands found its way onto his thigh. "You know what would help, though, right? They don't call sex life-affirming for nothing."

He removed her hand before it worked its way any further north. "Seriously Katia, not tonight."

She pouted slightly. "Fine. Maybe when you're feeling better?"

"Maybe." He shrugged and turned around, and didn't bother to watch her walk away. Selphie's mouth was hanging wide open.

"Wow, she was _forward._ "

"That's pretty standard for this place."

Selphie tutted. "It's so... mercenary, y'know? There's no subtlety. In my day, we did our courting down at the dance hall, but it wasn't so - so _brazen._ "

Irvine rolled his eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm out on the town with my grandma?" he muttered quietly.

"Hey, I can't help being out of the loop. Ernie's social life for the past couple of decades revolved around playing cards and meeting up with his old buddies to bond over their mutual health complaints." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "On the plus side, I'm probably the world's greatest expert on prostate issues by now."

Irvine shot her a look of deep disgust and stalked off to a corner where three girls were sipping on cocktails. He tilted his hat in greeting, and was answered with a neat row of smiles. "Evening, ladies."

Selphie, to her credit, stayed put at the bar, eavesdropping on nearby couples, and he spotted her expression of scandalized delight when one pair starting kissing right next to her.

One of the girls, Lorna, a small, perky blonde, laughed at his jokes more than the other two did, and as the night went on, he knew he was set for success. She accepted his offer of a late-night coffee in his apartment, and they set off hand-in-hand, with Selphie tactfully following twenty feet or so behind. He didn't turn his head to look at her, but the flash of yellow at the corner of his eye told him she was there.

As he held the door of his apartment open for Lorna, Selphie glided past him first. "I'll give you some privacy, Irvy. You kids have fun, now." She winked at him and drifted off through the wall.

Irvine ignored her, and smiled down at Lorna as she walked inside. He followed her, and took off his stetson and laid it on the kitchen table. "How d'you like your coffee?"

Lorna padded softly across the kitchen and laid a hand on his forearm. Her blue eyes twinkled. "In the morning," she replied.

Her hand started to move elsewhere, and Irvine grinned. _Damn. My kind of girl._ He gently maneuvered her out of the kitchen and onto the sofa.

Once they were comfortably seated, Irvine looped an arm round her shoulders and began to kiss her, and sighed internally with pleasure at the familiar comfort of losing himself in a woman. It was the one thing, the only thing that still felt _normal,_ that allowed him to tell himself that the world hadn't turned inside out since Ernest's death. He slid his hand deftly up the back of Lorna's pink silk blouse and started to fumble around for her bra strap when, to his horror, Selphie floated halfway through the adjacent wall, saw what he was doing, and promptly disappeared from sight with a huge grin and a double thumbs-up. Irritated, Irvine immediately resumed his exploration of Lorna's mouth, but found that his ardor had considerably cooled. After a while, she pulled back and looked at him sympathetically.

"You're not really feeling this, are you?"

"Hey, don't say that, babe. Of course I am."

"But you're not _feeling_ it," she repeated, with a meaningful glance at his crotch. Irvine was about to protest when she patted him on the arm and said soothingly, "It happens to guys all the time. Maybe you had too much to drink, you know?"

"I didn't-"

"It's really okay. You know, I should probably get back to my friends. Let's just leave things like this for tonight, huh?" She leaned up to give him one final, friendly peck on the lips and started to rebutton her blouse. Irvine wordlessly watched her gather her things and reluctantly held the door open for her as she left.

As she disappeared down the steps, he scowled down at his unresponsive crotch and hissed " _Traitor._ She was hot. She was willing. What's _wrong_ with you?"

At the sound of the door latch clicking shut, Selphie drifted through the wall from the bedroom, open-mouthed. "Has she gone already? What happened?"

He narrowed his eyes and glared. _You. You're what's wrong, dammit. I can't even relax with a girl in the walls of my own home with you floating around._

"I didn't feel like it," Irvine scowled, and turned away from her, rearranging his ponytail.

"Aw. Shame, though. She really seemed like your type."

He whirled back round. "Stop acting so damn familiar! Just because I'm a Kinneas doesn't mean that you _know_ me!"

Selphie stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Know you...? Irvy, you're forgetting that the whole time Ernie was raising you, I was there. I've always been there. Heck, I sat in your room with you after your daddy died, night after night, while you cried yourself to sleep."

His anger deflated. "You... what?"

She smiled sadly. "Yeah. I used to sing songs to you, even though you couldn't hear me. God knows why I thought it would help. I just couldn't stand seeing you, poor little mite, left an orphan when you were only seven. I wanted you to know that you were loved. By Ernie, grandma Eileen, and, well, by me." Her huge green eyes were round with sincerity now. "I'm your family. It might be weird, but that's how it is. That's how it's always been."

Irvine looked back at her with his mouth half-open, completely helpless. "Selphie, I can't cope with this."

"I know. But you'll learn. We've got... time. A lot of it." She sighed. "Look, it's like Ernie said. It's going to be me and you, for the rest of your life. You may as well just try to get along with me."

He let her herd him gently back towards the sofa; he barely listened to whatever reassurances she was softly murmuring as he crashed down on the cushions. Selphie hovered next to him and smiled encouragingly, and he nodded with a sense of resignation.

So they sat together and watched a old film on TV, a stupid B-movie about a long-haired knight fighting a dragon to protect his sorceress love, the atrocious acting somewhat redeemed by the action scenes. Irvine slowly fell asleep, leaving Selphie wishing she could pick up a blanket to drape over him.

She cast her eyes up to the ceiling. "How am I doing so far, Ern?" she whispered hopelessly, knowing that an answer would never come.


	3. Chapter III

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter III**

After a couple of days had passed in a haze of mundanity - grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning his army boots, and half-listening to Selphie talk and talk and _talk -_ Irvine sprung out of his bed with a clear idea suddenly fully-formed in his mind. He strode, shirtless and not particularly caring about it, into the living room where Selphie was watching breakfast TV. He'd taken to leaving the TV switched on until the morning, ostensibly to help her stave off boredom, but mainly so that he could go to bed feeling reasonably sure that she would not be staring at him all night long. He still had a nagging feeling that she floated through several times to watch him sleep, but there was very little he could do about it.

He reached for the remote control and turned off _Good Morning Galbadia_ , the presenter's inane smile dwindling to a tiny dot on the screen. "Selphie. The thing that did this to you. It sounds to me like it was a GF. You know, a Guardian Force."

Selphie arched her eyebrows and took in a good eyeful of his bare torso. "I wouldn't know about that kind of thing, Irvy."

"Well, _I_ do. There's been a lot of research on GFs in the last few decades. We studied them at Galbadia Garden. Never junctioned one, though." He shuddered slightly. "We left all that to the brainwashed morons at Balamb."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Irvine grabbed a gray t-shirt bearing the words 'Iron Giant' from the pile of clean laundry on the sofa and shrugged it over his head. "I'm still on leave for the next two weeks. We could catch a boat down to Centra and-"

Selphie looked up at him sharply. "And do what? Think you can ditch me there or something? You're really eager to get rid of me, aren't you?"

He sat down next to her. "Don't you want to find out what really happened? What if there was a chance of reversing it?"

Selphie stared at him, completely nonplussed. "Well, I.. I-"

"If you do, I'm your best chance," he cut in firmly. "I can fight, I can navigate. C'mon, Selphie. Think about it. Gramps was a bookstore owner. My kid might be a... tailor or a basketball player or something, you know? If you want a Kinneas who can take you back there and kick some GF ass, it's gotta be me." He went to the bookcase, yanked out his _Military Atlas of the Galbadian and Centran Continents_ and flicked through to the North Centra page. "Now show me where it was."

Selphie floated over and frowned down at the book. "Me'n Herbie took the ferry to Far Harbor, here..." Her finger hovered over a small town on the coast above the Serengetti Plains, marked with a black dot on the map. "It was three hours' walk to the west. About an hour inland from the cliffs. Here." Irvine moved his finger along the page until she nodded. "There. Yeah."

"Then that's where we're goin'." He looked up with a bright smile. "Great. I could do with an adventure."

Selphie's brow was still furrowed. "How would we even get across the South Galbadian Sea? The ferries don't run anymore, right?"

"'Anymore'? Selphie, there hasn't been a ferry service since the Lunar Cry." He shrugged. "We'll just shove a fistful of gil at a fisherman. Shouldn't be too difficult."

She sighed. "The world's changed so much. When I was alive, there was still a whole Centran civilization... There were ferries going to different ports every day. I haven't even seen the south since then. So much of it was destroyed." She looked down sadly at the map, her eyes on the huge hole that had been blasted in the southern continent eight decades ago. "All those people... I guess it's ancient history to you, Irvy, but most of them were born around the same time as me. It could've been me, even, if I'd grown up and married a southerner."

She stared at the atlas for a few more moments, then gave a small, determined nod. "I... All right. Let's go there. Maybe it's time for me to face it. Even if it doesn't come to anything."

"That's the spirit, Selphie. Okay, I'll drive us down to here." He pointed at Shenand Town, a fishing port on the Galbadian south coast, west of Timber. "There should be plenty of trawlers heading south for the seafood."

Selphie looked disappointed. "Can't we take the train? Please please please?" she said beseechingly.

He was taken aback by the force of her request. "Why?"

"I just _really_ love trains," she replied earnestly. "When I was a little girl, they laid the first railroad between Dollet and Galbadia City. Me'n Herbie used to rush out from the schoolhouse to watch the locomotives roar past and spook all the cattle. We-"

He smirked. "That's a charming tale, grandma, but we have new-fangled electric ones these days."

Selphie wrinkled her nose. "I do _know_ that, young man. I've been on modern trains with Ernie, and Travis before him. But not for ages and ages. Oh please Irvy, just this once."

Irvine considered his options. Seven hours in the car with only Selphie, or five in a train compartment with other people, and the chance to catch up on some sleep. "All right, then."

* * *

By midday Irvine was boarding the train from Deling Central Station, his rifle secured in its carrying case at his shoulder, and a G-Army training backpack containing a change of clothes and a few provisions on his back. Selphie drifted alongside him, her wide eyes shining. "Wow! They've expanded the station building and put in two new platforms since Ernie and I last came here."

"When the hell was that? This isn't new," he muttered quietly as other passengers swarmed around him on the platform.

"Not all that long ago... You were already born. I think you were in grade school."

He rolled his eyes in response as he stepped onto the train. When he put his hand on the door to the nearest compartment, Selphie let out a yelp, almost making him jump.

"No! I want to stay out here and look out of the windows! Don't be mean, Irvy."

He sighed heavily and stood in the aisle next to a large window, half-attentively watching Deling City speed out of view. Selphie gazed out, transfixed, her palms hovering close to the glass.

" _Train, train, take us away..._ " she sang tunelessly. " _Into the future we will go..._ "

After a few minutes of this, Irvine's irritation boiled over. "You planning on singin' that all the way to the coast?"

Selphie flashed him an angelic smile. "Oh, most definitely," she assured him cheerfully.

"Then you stay out here. I'm goin' in a compartment."

He marched inside, letting the door slam shut. Irvine took a seat next to two businessmen from Timber, pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, and dozed on and off intermittently, lulled into a soft drowsiness by the comforting rhythm of the train. Selphie wafted in and out of the compartment occasionally; he knew, because he could hear her singing. He gave no signs of being conscious, and she left him alone.

The train reached Shenand Town by dusk. Irvine immediately set off to the harbor to find the night fishing boats. The seas south of Galbadia were famous for succulent squid, which were best caught while the sun was down. He spotted a squid trawler, easily identified by the string of electric lights hung around its sides to attract the creatures. With a grin at Selphie, he sauntered over to strike his deal. The captain, a tanned, bearded and burly man, eyed him with suspicion and did not show any reaction until Irvine doubled his initial amount. He eventually gave a small, curt nod when Irvine put the offer up to five hundred gil, and gestured with a thumb at the main cabin of the boat.

"There's blankets if you want to sleep. It don't smell too good in there, though."

Irvine tipped his stetson in a gesture of thanks and clambered aboard. The cabin was indeed suffused with the lingering smell of calamari, but he'd slept in far worse conditions while out on active military service, so he settled down onto the slightly damp blankets and told Selphie to go and watch the crew fishing. She smiled cheerfully and floated through the cabin wall out onto the deck, and the rocking and swaying of the boat in the inky blackness soon sent Irvine into a deep sleep.

* * *

It was past noon the next day when the trawler docked at Far Harbor. Irvine gave the taciturn captain his thanks, and jumped down onto the jetty with a vigor that he had been missing for a while. A new town, unfamiliar lands, a new challenge. These were the things that gave him something to get excited about. He looked over at Selphie, and was about to ask her what she'd learned about squid fishing overnight, when he noticed that she was extremely subdued.

"You all right, Selphie?"

"Yeah." Her eyes were fixed on the ramshackle town in front of them. "It... It's sure changed a lot, that's all."

There were a few modest residences, some wooden, some more makeshift constructions of corrugated iron, dotted among the fallen pillars and decayed stone ruins of the pre-Lunar Cry architecture. To Irvine, it was just another run-of-the-mill dilapidated Centran town, but he realized with a jolt that when Selphie had last set foot here, it had been in its bustling prime.

She floated slowly over to a lone stone structure and stared at it, and he followed. Irvine bent down to read the inscription on a memorial plaque that was fixed to the lower part of the building's street-facing wall.

_Here stands the Former Schoolhouse, the only building in Far Harbor that was not destroyed when the Lunar Cry hit the Centran continent, causing devastating loss of both life and irreplaceable Centran cultural heritage._

"I saw it when it was still being built," Selphie said in a quiet voice. "These stones were gleaming white..." She reached out her fingertips and watched them sink through the yellowed, crumbling stonework.

"You okay?"

"I just feel really... old. All of a sudden."

Her face was stricken, and Irvine was surprised by the strength of his urge to cheer her up. "Hey, at least you don't look it," he offered.

Selphie tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She stood and gazed at the old schoolhouse for a little longer, and Irvine thought he could see the direction of her thoughts: _Will she still be around, even when this building has turned to dust?_

"C'mon, Sefie," he said, and she met his eyes and gave a faint grin at the childish nickname. "Let's go and find an inn for the evening and set off tomorrow, okay?"

She brightened slightly and began to float down the street. "The inn was over this way. I remember. Look, over here... Oh."

She stood before the ruins of a building, the stone foundations long overgrown with tree roots and weeds.

"Guess they didn't bother to rebuild it." Her mouth drooped at the corners again.

"Probably not much demand. I'll ask around and see if there's anywhere that takes paying guests." He grinned. "Failing that, I'll just have to find a woman to take me home for the night."

Selphie's expression was skeptical. "If there are any women in this place, I'm pretty sure they'll either be married or over fifty."

"Hey, that's never stopped me before," he leered.

"Really?" she asked curiously. "Irvy, that's kind of creepy."

He ignored her and crossed the road back to the dock, where a middle-aged fisherman was unloading equipment from a small boat.

Irvine took off his hat in greeting. "Excuse me, friend. Is there an inn around these parts?"

The fisherman shot him an odd look. "The bar has two guest rooms upstairs. Don't think they've been used for a while, though."

Irvine offered his thanks and rejoined Selphie on the other side of the street. It didn't take long to locate the bar, a small, shabby wooden building at the end of the dock. When he entered, there were three patrons in a corner playing cards; more fishermen, he decided.

The barkeep was clearly surprised by his request for a room, but snatched the hundred-gil note from his fingers and nodded wordlessly at the stairs. Irvine ascended, the staircase creaking loudly under his feet, and opened the door to the nearest bedroom. It reminded him of Ernest's room at the nursing home, with a musty smell and furniture that predated his own birth by several decades. Nevertheless, it was a major upgrade from the floor of the squid trawler's cabin. He set his bag and rifle down on the bed and turned to give Selphie a smile, which she returned.

Irvine drew his finger across the bedside table, and raised his eyebrows at the layer of sticky dust that had gathered there. "That fella wasn't kiddin' when he said this place hasn't been used for a while." He adjusted his hat. "Might as well take advantage of the bar. I'm off for a drink."

Downstairs, he leaned across the bar and watched another ten-gil note vanish from between his fingers, to be replaced with a draft beer of unexpectedly high quality. He thanked the barkeep, wondering if the man was entirely mute or just incredibly surly.

"I'm your first guest in a while, I figure."

"You figure right, son."

"He _does_ speak after all, then!" interjected Selphie, and Irvine masked his snicker with a quick gulp of beer.

"You don't get treasure hunters comin' around this way, then?" Irvine asked.

The barkeep gave a bitter laugh. "Ain't no treasure in North Centra. We've always been dirt poor, even when the rest of Centra was rich. Eighty years ago, this town was chock-full of refugees from the south after the Lunar Cry. Then it was empty again a few months later, when they realized there was nothin' here for 'em. All went up north to Galbadia. Can't blame 'em."

"See, I've been hearin' about a tomb a few hours west-"

The barkeep's eyebrows twitched and he glared at Irvine darkly. "You oughtn't be goin' anywhere near that place. There's bad magic out there."

"What kind of bad magic?" Irvine inquired pleasantly.

The barkeep set down his cloth and fixed Irvine with a threatening stare. "Listen, son. When our great-grandmas tell us there's _bad magic_ about, we don't ask 'em what kind. We stay the hell away from it. You'd better do the same, or you'll be sorry, and that's that." He shook his head. "Don't go askin' about it no more."

Irvine tipped his hat. "Much obliged, sir." He turned away and mumbled into his beer glass, "Well, that was helpful."

"He's a ray of sunshine, huh, Irvy?" Selphie stuck her tongue out at the barkeep. "Little does he know that it takes more than that to stop a Kinneas."

* * *

They set off early the next day and hiked the route to the tomb, Selphie's enthusiasm noticeably dimming as the morning wore on.

The sun was high in the sky when they reached the entrance to the tomb: two large monoliths set into a small hill, the yawning chasm between them dwindling to a narrow, paved corridor that led into the blackness below. Irvine was glad of the three wearable LED flashlights he'd packed in his bag, standard G-Army equipment for underground and nighttime maneuvers.

"This it, Sefie?" The tomb was unremarkable from the outside, but he could not guess how far it extended under the surface.

"...Yeah." Selphie was unmoving, her expression vacant, and he waited.

"Irvy, let's turn back."

"What? Why?"

"I'm... I'm scared," she admitted in a small voice.

"Of the GF? It's not like it can turn you undead all over again," he reasoned.

She faced him with large, limpid eyes. "But it could do it to _you._ I don't want you to go in there and-"

"Ah, don't sweat it, Sefie. I can take care of myself."

"Think about it, Irvy! You wouldn't just be stuck with me for the rest of your life. You'd be floating around as a ghost with me forever and ever. _Ever._ "

Her threw her a crooked smile. "What, you don't think I'd be good company?"

"Don't joke about it, Irvy. Please." Her face was solemn. "I don't want... _that..._ for you."

He folded his arms sternly. "Now listen. Without wishing to be insulting, you and Herbert were just a couple of clueless kids who didn't know what the hell you were doing." Selphie bristled at this, but allowed him to continue. "Whereas I - and you know I don't like to brag, Sefie - but _I_ am the greatest damn shot the G-Army's ever seen, and there ain't no GF in the whole wide world who is gonna do _that_ to _me._ " He slung his rifle over his shoulder and treated her to his best dazzling smile. "So just trust me, darlin'."

Selphie's lips creeped slowly upwards as she regarded him with a mix of amusement and admiration. "That was quite the rousing speech, young man."

Irvine grinned. "Damn straight, grandma." He disengaged the safety catch on his rifle. "Now, I'm goin' in. You comin'?"

* * *

Irvine found creeping through the tomb to be quite tiresome. Around half the time, his height exceeded that of the ceiling, so he was forced into an uncomfortable half-crouch. His LED lights, clipped onto his coat and hat, were thankfully sufficient to illuminate the surrounding gloom. There was little of interest to see, however. The tedium of the endless stone tiled walls was only occasionally broken by the task of picking off a few scuttling Armadodos with his rifle.

Selphie was quiet, almost timid. Irvine wished he could convince her to share his confidence. He'd never fought against a GF before, true enough, but he'd taken on some pretty big monsters in his time, and he was damn sure he wouldn't be leaving Centra as a ghost.

They were coming up to yet another turning when a furry blur rounded the corner and dashed straight towards them. Irvine stilled his trigger finger. He'd never seen any monster like that before; if anything, it looked like a-

"Is that a _dog_?" Selphie squeaked incredulously.

Irvine narrowed his eyes. "It's a dog alright."

"Angelo, heel!" A female voice bounced off the walls of the tomb, and a dark-haired young woman dressed in a light blue knitted duster and a denim skirt, brandishing a spiky silver Pinwheel, stopped abruptly as soon as she appeared round the corner and registered Irvine's presence. She stared open-mouthed for a moment as the huge, fluffy dog bounded back to her, then she rearranged her face into a polite smile.

"Sorry, I didn't see you two there."

Irvine felt his jaw dropping open. "Excuse me, ma'am, us... two?"

She cocked her head and gave him an odd glance. "Yes, you two." Selphie's look of sheer glee and excitement grew as the girl looked unmistakably in her direction. "I'm Rinoa Heartilly, and this is Angelo." She was well-spoken, with an accent that came straight from the upper echelons of Deling City society. "I'm an adventurer. A treasure hunter," she said proudly. "I've been researching an old legend, about a hundred and fifty years old, about a treasure hoard-"

Irvine groaned. "Oh great. She's as dumb as you and Herbert were."

Rinoa gasped at him. "Excuse me!?"

Irvine tipped his hat curtly at her. "Apologies. I'd like to have a quick word with my companion in private, please, ma'am." He turned round and walked a few paces away, Selphie bobbing up and down at his side.

"Sef-"

"Let's ask her to tag along," she interrupted excitedly. "She can _see_ me!"

He gritted his teeth. "Sefie, I am not going anywhere with her. She's a standard-issue, spoilt Galbadian princess. I know her type well. There's ten of 'em to every gil in Central Deling. I-"

Selphie glared up at him, and realizing that she was too short to appear remotely intimidating, hovered slowly upwards until her face loomed ominously close to Irvine's. "You listen to me, Irvine Kinneas. I have not talked to another girl for a _hundred and twenty years,_ and if you try to stop me now, I swear to the moon and back, I _will_ find a way to kill you."

He let out a long, ragged sigh. "Ah... Dammit, Selphie."

"We - are - going - to - invite - her - to - join - us." She enunciated every word so clearly that he was sure Rinoa could hear it, and he resigned himself to the inevitable.

"Fine."

He swung back round to face Rinoa, who was scowling in the gloom, and carefully plastered on his most charming smile.

"Sorry about that, ma'am. I'm Irvine Kinneas, and this is Selphie Tilmitt. We're searching for something in this tomb ourselves. Care to join forces for a while?"


	4. Chapter IV

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter IV**

Irvine, Selphie, Rinoa and Angelo made their way deeper into the tomb, the corridors gradually narrowing as they descended. Irvine's initial antipathy towards Rinoa had ebbed away after he realized just how ecstatic Selphie was to have her company, and Rinoa, in turn, seemed to warm to him somewhat after he offered her one of his clip-on G-Army lights to replace her cumbersome flashlight, and fastened another onto Angelo's collar.

Irvine surprised himself by not immediately hitting on her. While objectively she was pretty - _no, a straight-up hottie,_ he corrected himself _-_ he had always steered clear of upper-class girls, believing them to be high-maintenance. There was also something about her piercing gaze that suggested that she might be in possession of a well-developed bullshit detector. He decided it was not worth the risk of having his ass handed to him, and opted to maintain a polite distance.

He was unable to go for more than a few minutes, however, before his curiosity got the better of him. "So, I don't mean to be rude, ma'am," he began.

"Rinoa," she insisted firmly.

"Well, Rinoa, it's like this. No-one except me can see Selphie. So why can you?"

Rinoa gave a nervous laugh. "What a strange thing to say."

"He's right, though," chipped in Selphie. "Look." She cheerfully floated a few feet upwards to demonstrate, the crown of her head disappearing into the ceiling.

Rinoa's eyes widened. "Oh." Her mouth dropped open, then closed, then open again. "...Um."

Her fingers twitched very slightly, and Irvine watched with interest as a pale blue haze seemed to gather around her fingertips. Rinoa glanced down, horrified, and the shimmering light instantly vanished. Her eyes crept up to meet Irvine's, to see if he had noticed. He raised one questioning eyebrow in response.

Selphie floated back down and smiled encouragingly at Rinoa ."I think I get it, Irvy."

"Think I do too, darlin'."

"What?" Rinoa's gaze darted between the pair of them, and Angelo must have sensed her mistress' anxiety, as she ran protectively to her side.

Selphie looked jubilant. "Are you a sorceress? You are, aren't you? Don't worry, we won't tell anybody."

Crestfallen, and with imploring eyes, Rinoa reached forwards to grab Selphie's hand, staring in confusion as her fingers passed straight through. "I... You really _can't_ tell anybody, okay?"

"You _are_! That's wonderful!" Selphie clapped her hands together. "So sorceresses can see me? Isn't that great, Irvy?"

"Yeah, great," he replied unenthusiastically, suddenly overcome with childish resentment. Did this mean that he now had to share Selphie with someone else?

"Um..." Rinoa ventured. "What, if you don't mind me asking, are you?"

"I'm Selphie," she beamed.

Irvine smirked. "Not what she asked, Sefie."

"Hmph. I'm human. Just... not quite all here, I guess." She drifted forwards to hover in front of Rinoa and launched upon a retelling of the tale in what Irvine now knew was her 'dramatic' voice. "It happened right here, in this very tomb. Picture the scene..."

Irvine stifled a groan and stalked off ahead to check for monsters.

He took out three Armadodos from a satisfying distance, commended himself on his perfect aim and walked back to the two girls. Selphie had apparently finished talking, and Rinoa's huge brown eyes were brimming with compassion.

"You poor thing." She whirled round and faced Irvine accusingly. "It's just so _awful_ , what your great-great-grandfather did to her!"

He crossed his arms, feeling somewhat defensive. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly a walk in the park for me, either."

Rinoa's disapproval was evident. "That's a terrible attitude, Irvine. You're _alive_! Poor Selphie is... is... How can you be so callous?"

Selphie broke the uncomfortable silence with a happy sigh. "D'you know how wonderful this is? A sympathetic ear and some female company after so long with just you Kinneas boys. I'm having the best day _ever_."

"Well, isn't that just lovely," Irvine muttered, starting to feel edged out.

"Don't be so hard on Irvy, though, Rinoa," Selphie added earnestly. "He's coping as well as he can. It's barely been a week since Ernie died, after all. And actually I think you've been really thoughtful, Irvy, going out of your way to bring me back here."

He acknowledged her praise with a smile, feeling unexpectedly touched at her attempt to defend him against Rinoa's wrath. Rinoa, however, was still eyeing him with suspicion.

"This was your idea? What do you intend to do, exactly?"

"Well..." began Irvine, keenly aware that the finer details of his plan were yet to be worked out. "Take on the GF, and when it's weakened, uh... Tell it to make Selphie alive again, or... something."

" _Tell_ it to? You think it'll do what you say?"

"Hey, it's worth a shot!" A thought occurred to him. "And it might be more inclined to obey if we've got a sorceress on our side, y'know? Remember all those legends about the sorceresses of old who had whole armies of GFs under their command?"

Rinoa cocked her head at him. "Ohhh. So _that's_ why you invited me to join you."

Irvine clicked his tongue in irritation. _Definitely high maintenance._ "No, I invited you to join us because Selphie wants to be your best friend, and she threatened to murder me in an unspecified way if I refused."

"Aw, really?" Rinoa looked genuinely pleased, and beamed at Selphie. "That's so sweet of you! I'd love to be your friend, Selphie."

Irvine growled quietly to himself as the girls chatted, and made private comments to Angelo, who had trotted to his side and was gazing at him with curiosity in her intelligent eyes. "I'm a damn spare tire now," he confided to her.

He soon stopped dead at the unmistakeable sound of muffled voices somewhere nearby, and held up a hand for Selphie and Rinoa to be quiet. "Seems like we've got company, ladies," he whispered. "Sefie darlin', can you go ahead and check out what we're up against?"

"Sure thing," she replied, and floated around the corner of the corridor. Irvine fiddled with his rifle silently as he waited, Rinoa shushing Angelo with soothing strokes to her shaggy neck.

Selphie drifted back after a couple of minutes that seemed to stretch out indefinitely. "Three of 'em. All young 'uns like you two."

Irvine rolled his eyes. "Alright, grandma. Anythin' else?"

"They're not in uniform, but they look military. Two of them have weapons," she added helpfully.

Irvine tapped his foot impatiently. "A bit more detail in the description please, Sefie."

"Uhh.. okay. There are two guys, one with blond hair and a really stupid tattoo, and the other one is all sulky with a... swordy-thing and a foofy collar on his jacket. And - you'll like this part, Irvy - there's a sexy lady with a _whip._ " Selphie winked.

Irvine frowned. He knew one admittedly sexy female with a whip, but - was it possible...?

"I'm goin' to take a look. Stay here."

He switched his lights off and crept silently to the corner, taking a deep breath before rounding it into the next corridor. His suspicions were fully confirmed at the sight, around twenty paces away: three figures, their heads bent close together in a rapid discussion, one with long honey blonde hair in a bun, another with messy chestnut waves, and a third with blond spikes, their familiar faces illuminated by the distinctive green haze of para-magic.

Irvine darted back and leaned against the wall next to Rinoa, his hat scraping the low ceiling, and muttered, "Goddamn SeeD. Just what we need right now."

"You know them?" she whispered.

"I know _these_ ones. Dincht and Leonhart attended a summer training camp at G-Garden when we were teenagers, and Quisty was a guest instructor for a semester. But I bet you a million gil they don't remember me."

"Why wouldn't they?"

He scowled. "It's complicated."

Irvine sighed in resignation, switched his LEDs back on and stepped around the corner. The taller SeeD's gunblade flashed as it pointed straight towards him, and the woman whirled round immediately.

"Drop your weapons," she commanded.

Irvine heard Rinoa lay her Pinwheel down on the floor, but he kept hold of his rifle and smiled pleasantly. "I don't believe there's any need for that, Instructor Trepe."

Quistis cracked her whip threateningly in his direction, and Irvine stifled a smirk as his eyes followed the elegant line of her hips. While she wasn't his type in terms of personality, he'd always appreciated her in a purely aesthetic sense.

"How do you know my name?" she snapped.

"You taught me for a semester at Galbadia Garden, ma'am. Long time ago now."

She frowned. "You'll have to refresh my memory. Name and rank, soldier."

He sighed, and saluted. "Irvine Kinneas, G-Army Fourteenth Regiment, Sniper, Rank Triple-S." He was met by three blank looks, with no spark of recognition whatsoever. He ground his teeth. _Goddamn GF zombies. There's a special place in hell waiting for Cid Kramer._ Irvine had never particularly liked his own headmaster, Martine, but he felt a renewed gratitude to the man for refusing to participate in the experimental GF program.

"Identify your companion please, Mr. Kinneas."

"Rinoa Heartilly, a civilan."

"A _treasure hunter_ ," Rinoa piped up importantly, and Irvine cringed slightly.

Quistis turned her gaze back to Irvine, her expression stern. "What business does the Galbadian Army have here?"

"None. I'm currently on leave. This is a... personal mission."

The female SeeD shot him a withering glare, one he'd frequently received during her classes. "A personal _mission_. Underground. With your girlfriend and your pet dog."

Irvine smiled as he heard Selphie snicker behind him. "Well-"

"We just met, _actually,_ and he most certainly is _not_ my boyfriend!" said Rinoa hotly. "And she's my dog."

The gunblader's eyes flicked between Irvine and Rinoa almost imperceptibly, but Irvine caught it. _Huh. Interesting._ "So, Instru-"

Quistis sighed impatiently."You can stop calling me that. I haven't been an instructor for almost ten years. I'm a regular SeeD now. Rank A. This is Squall Leonhart, Rank 30, and Zell Dincht, Rank 25." She indicated each of her companions in turn with a gloved hand. Zell frowned slightly and nodded at Irvine, while Squall remained expressionless. _Leonhart hasn't changed then_ , Irvine thought to himself. Indeed, none of the three looked much different than they had as teenagers a decade or so ago. A little taller and more battle-worn, perhaps. Squall was now sporting a long, cleanly-healed scar that stretched diagonally across his forehead, and Zell had since acquired a somewhat outlandish tattoo, as Selphie had described.

"Well, Ms. Trepe, may I inquire as to what business SeeD has here?"

She gave a curt shake of her head. "You may not."

Irvine sucked his teeth. _Stalemate. This could get very dull, very quickly._ "Okay, I'll level with you, ma'am. I'm here to find the GF. I imagine you are too."

Quistis flinched ever so slightly, then raised her slim eyebrows. "Why do you think there's a GF here?"

He shrugged. "Can't reveal my sources. But we're all looking for it, aren't we? Except Rinoa, who thinks she's gonna find some treasure, but she can tag along for now if she keeps quiet."

"Hey!" Rinoa barged forwards and elbowed him out of the way. Irvine hung back and pretended to polish his rifle as she began to introduce herself and Angelo to the three SeeDs. He was thoroughly enjoying watching the way Squall was attempting to both look at, and not look at, Rinoa as she spoke.

Selphie had hovered over to his side, and he smirked at her. "Well, this is interesting," he said under his breath.

"What?"

"The way Leonhart's lookin' at Rinoa."

Selphie gave a small gasp. "What? You think he knows she's a sorceress?"

"No, not that. He's been smacked in the face with love at first sight, and he's trying his damnedest to ignore it. Doesn't know what the hell to do. It's a riot to watch."

Selphie stared at Squall, her face a mask of concentration. "Where do you get that from? His expression hasn't changed at all."

"It's all in the eyes. Look at 'em." He smiled down fondly at her knotted brows. "Ahh Sefie, you're so bad at reading people."

"What about Rinoa? Has she noticed?"

"Looks like it. She's interested." He pointed at Rinoa, who was throwing shy glances in Squall's direction every few seconds and self-consciously twiddling a long strand of her smooth black hair.

"Huh." Selphie still looked mystified. "So you think he'd like to court her?"

Irvine stifled a chuckle. "You gotta stop calling it that, grandma."

Quistis' clear voice rang out, echoing off the walls. "Mr. Kinneas."

He rejoined the group. "Ma'am?"

"I'm going to permit you to continue your exploration of the tomb, provided that you remain at a reasonable distance behind our party, and allow us to dispose of any further monsters."

Her condescending tone grated on Irvine, and he found himself unable to contain his irritation. "You think I can't take out a few Armadodos?"

Quistis stared him down coldly. "You have a civilian with you, Mr. Kinneas. Leave the fighting to us unless you're directly attacked."

He responded with a flippant salute, and watched as the three SeeDs strode off ahead, Zell lingering for a second to direct a look of intense dislike in his direction before jogging forward to join Quistis and Squall.

Selphie stared after them thoughtfully. "How come they're so stuck up?"

Irvine adjusted his stetson and considered the question. "The thing about SeeDs is that they take themselves _really_ seriously. People like that tend to think that easy-goin' guys like me are, well, idiots."

"Zell's really got it in for you," Rinoa observed. "Did you see that glare he gave you?"

"Dincht never liked me when we were training together. I seem to rile him up the wrong way for some reason. Can't imagine why." He shot her a self-deprecating grin.

"I can't either," she fired back, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Leonhart's more your type, huh?" He enjoyed the fierce blush that comment elicited. _Bullseye, princess._

"Let's just get going," she said firmly, and pushed past him to start walking further into the tomb. "Come on, Angelo."

* * *

They made slow progress for another hour or so, Irvine having to stoop more and more as the ceilings became even lower. He had never been one to suffer from claustrophobia, but he was finding the journey increasingly unpleasant. The air was colder and mustier than before, and with the SeeDs having taken out all the monsters in their path - he could occasionally hear the crack of Quistis' whip and the discharge of Squall's bullet chamber, as well as frequent four-letter exclamations from Zell - the trek was now utterly devoid of any variety. He was half-listening to Selphie regale a fascinated Rinoa with tales of Imperial-era Dollet when Angelo gave a sudden bark, and a burning orange blur crashed into him from behind, spreading a searing pain along his right bicep. He swore loudly as he tried to hit it away with the hilt of his rifle using his left hand, his right arm hanging uselessly. _Damn Bombs._ He'd always hated the things. It must have been hiding in a dead end somewhere.

He swatted aimlessly, his eyes blinded by the flare. The fierce heat from the Bomb was far too close to his face, and he could hear Selphie shrieking from somewhere ahead. Then a sublime, blessed cool embraced him, the crack of icicles resounding in his ears. The blackened remains of the Bomb dropped to the ground in front of him, and he turned to see Rinoa, fingers outstretched, the last sparkling traces of a Blizzara spell dissolving into the dank air.

He tipped his hat to her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now take your coat off and let me look at that arm."

"I'd rather not."

Rinoa paced towards him and impatiently tugged at the shoulder of his coat, and he yelped involuntarily as the singed leather dragged across the burn. She managed to pull it down halfway, and he heard Selphie gasp at the mess of blood and melted skin the Bomb's attack had left behind.

Rinoa winced, and nodded decisively as her fingers started to glow again. "I'll fix it for you."

"What, you mean-"

"Of course I do."

Irvine shook his head. "No." He'd been healed by para-magic hundreds of times, but this was different. Sorcery was... unsettling. "I don't need that... _stuff_."

Rinoa, clearly offended, yanked his coat sleeve further off his arm, ignoring his curses. "Come on, it's your gun arm, isn't it?"

A worried Selphie was floating a foot away from them. "Stop being a baby and let her do it, Irvy," she urged.

He glared at her. _If there's one thing I hate, it's women ganging up on me._ "Fine. But make it quick."

Rinoa closed her eyes, and the light blue glow started to mass around her. Irvine braced himself, then was immediately distracted by loud, rapid, footsteps made by heavy boots as Squall quickly rounded the corner of the corridor, his gunblade slung over his shoulder.

"Kinneas, Quistis wants you to-" He cut off abruptly, staring at Rinoa and Irvine's bloodied, exposed arm.

Squall's gray-blue eyes widened as the pale sheen of Rinoa's healing magic flowed into Irvine's arm, all traces of the blood dissipating in an instant. Rinoa looked up, startled, while Irvine muttered very quietly, "You _idiot._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had Irvine's in-game first meeting with the party in mind when writing some of this chapter (although this is obviously AU - he and Selphie weren't at the orphanage in this story). It always seemed to me that the whole thing really sucked from Irvine's perspective. He meets his former foster siblings after 10+ years, none of them remember him due to monsters living in their heads, and they also don't seem to like him at all. (Okay, granted he was being a douchebag on the train.) It makes me wonder how Irvine, and by extension, other G-Garden/T-Garden cadets feel about the GF program at Balamb. Would they be envious, or think it's utterly messed up? In this story, it's very much the latter.
> 
> And yes, there is a special place in hell reserved for Cid Kramer, the true villain of FFVIII. The pixelation he got in the remaster is definitely not punishment enough for him...


	5. Chapter V

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter V**

Squall took a few slow steps closer. "That wasn't para-magic, was it?"

Rinoa, frozen in shock, did not answer him. "Of course it was," Irvine replied obstinately, and was rewarded with a full-on glare.

"I _do_ know the difference, Kinneas."

"So what do you plan to do about it?" he challenged in return.

Squall's gaze shifted back to the still-paralyzed Rinoa, and the harsh lines of his features softened a little. "...Nothing."

"Nothing? Think I don't know about SeeD's main directive? To suppress and defeat sorcere-"

Squall's eyes flashed dangerously at him. "Stop right there. That's not the kind of information you would be in possession of."

Irvine irritably tugged his coat back up to cover his shoulder. "I trained at a Garden, Leonhart. Maybe not your precious Balamb, but people _talk_ , y'know? It's fairly common knowledge."

Rinoa spoke up at last, her voice small and nervous. "Will you really not do anything?"

"I won't report this. It's not relevant to the mission." Squall brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes and added, "But look, don't do it again. I can't guarantee that Quistis and Zell will see it the same way."

She nodded. "Are you going to tell them?"

"No. Like I said, it's not relevant."

"Thank you, Squall." Rinoa gazed up at him with huge, earnest brown eyes, and Irvine was amused to see the obvious effect this was having on Squall, who turned away awkwardly.

"Anyway, Kinneas, Quistis wants you in front for a while. We've spotted a colony of Buels up ahead, and we'll need a second long-range attack. I'll stay back here with Rinoa."

It seemed to Irvine that Rinoa's face lit up at that last sentence, and he tried not to smirk at the pair of them as he swung his rifle over his shoulder, all traces of the pain forgotten. "No problem. You two take it easy, now."

Selphie followed him as he walked away, picking up his speed to catch up with Quistis and Zell. "Think we can trust him not to rat her out?" she asked, glancing back anxiously.

"Reckon so. Leonhart doesn't say much, but I'm pretty sure that when he says something, he means it." He grinned. "It definitely helps that he's got the hots for her."

Quistis was waiting up ahead in the next corridor, arms folded, the gloom around her illuminated softly with para-magic, and she squinted into the beam of his G-Army LEDs. Zell, meanwhile, was shadow-boxing against the wall, and pointedly did not bother to acknowledge Irvine's arrival.

"How may I be of assistance, ma'am?"

"Up there." She pointed to the far end of the corridor, where twenty or thirty Buels were clinging to the ceiling like three-winged bats, their demonic gray faces looking like carvings in the stonework. Irvine whistled in appreciation at the number. He'd only ever fought them in pairs.

"They're too far out of range to kill from here, but if you can get a shot to hit somewhere near, it should startle them into coming close enough to strike."

Irvine smiled indulgently. _Oh Quisty my darlin', how you underestimate me._ "Certainly, ma'am." He raised his rifle, steadied his hand, and fired a round of shots, each one hitting a Buel, the air filling with a series of shrieks and sounds like heavy rocks dropping to the floor. He rapidly reloaded his ammo, while the remaining Buels started to flap haphazardly towards the party, a single mass of those bizarre triple wings whirling round, and Irvine immediately used the next round to take them down one by one: thunk, thunk, thunk on the stone tiles. The final shot echoed in the corridor as the last Buel screamed and plummeted, and in the deafening silence that followed, Irvine turned to the two SeeDs, fully expecting to be met with gasps of admiration.

Quistis' expression remained resolutely unimpressed, although Zell had at least stopped his shadow-boxing, his mouth hanging slightly open. Selphie, to Irvine's gratification, bounced up and down in the air and exclaimed, "Attaboy, Irvy!"

Quistis placed one hand on her hip and twisted her lips into something approaching a smile. "You know, Mr. Kinneas, I think I'm starting to remember you."

Irvine grinned. This was more like it. He tipped his stetson at her. "Well, there ain't no-one else who shoots like me, ma'am."

"I wasn't referring to your marksmanship. No, I suddenly had the feeling I've seen that smug, self-satisfied leer of yours somewhere before."

Irvine stared at her, speechless, while a broad smirk grew on Zell's face. "Yeah. Your shit-eating grin is ringing some bells with me too, Kinneas."

He almost winced at that. _Damn. Even Dincht's learned to dish it out in the last decade._ Irvine found himself in a rare predicament: he could not think of a single retort. Selphie, however, made a noise of thorough disgust.

" _Wow_ , that was bitchy. She could give great-auntie Bethany a run for her money. And as for _you_ , tattoo boy, you just don't like Irvy 'cos he's a foot taller than you and twice as handsome. So up yours." She raised a defiant middle finger a few inches away from Zell's unseeing eyes.

Irvine felt his dented confidence begin to surge back, pumping like blood through his veins. _Thanks, Sef._ He gave a lazy smile, which seemed to visibly annoy Zell. "Well, ain't this a nice chance for us all to get reacquainted. Anythin' else you need me to shoot?"

Quistis drew her whip from her belt and leveled him with another frosty glare. "I'll be sure to let you know. For the moment, just fall in line and follow me."

They made their way through the scattered heap of Buel carcasses, Zell kicking a few out of the way to make a better path for Squall and Rinoa, and climbed down a series of narrow steps into the bowels of the tomb. Conversation was singularly lacking, though Irvine did at least enjoy Selphie's running commentary and sporadic insults flung towards the two oblivious SeeDs. He took out several more Buels and even a far-off Bomb with perfectly aimed shots, and was scolded by Quistis for not waiting for her orders.

"With respect, ma'am, I'm not a SeeD," he pointed out, rather reasonably, he thought.

"That much is obvious, Mr. Kinneas. However, at this point in time you are a member of my exploration squad, and you need to wait for my command before shooting. Is that understood?"

Selphie, incensed, hovered close to Quistis' face and put her hand straight through it. "Understand _this_ , you snooty bi-"

Irvine attempted to mask his laugh with a cough, and judging by the disdain in Quistis' eyes, was only partially successful. "Loud and clear, ma'am," he grinned, feeling extremely glad that Selphie was there to mitigate the repeated assaults on his ego.

* * *

After a while they reached an empty chamber that was wide enough for all five living members, as well as Angelo, to sit down in, so Quistis called a halt. "We'll wait for Squall and Rinoa and rest up here for twenty minutes," she announced, and Zell immediately sat down cross-legged on the floor, glugging down a fluorescent-yellow energy drink from his bag. Irvine leaned against the wall and took a flask of water and a chewy oatmeal bar out of his own pack, and had sated his thirst and hunger by the time Rinoa and Squall caught up with the group; walking rather more closely together than was strictly necessary, he thought. Irvine bent to ruffle Angelo's fur in greeting and winked at Rinoa, who studiously ignored him. She gave Squall a shy smile as he left her side to rejoin the other two SeeDs, and started to rummage through her bag for doggy treats.

Quistis and Squall exchanged brief reports in a low tone that was not audible to Irvine, then the only sounds were of Angelo's jaws demolishing her treats and the tap-tap-tap of Zell's constantly jiggling foot, which Irvine was beginning to find incredibly annoying.

This was soon interrupted by a mechanical buzzing, and Quistis frowned and looked down at a small silver commslink fastened to her wrist. "Squall, Zell, come with me for a moment please." They followed her out of the chamber and back onto the corridor.

Irvine sat down on the cold floor of the tomb, stretched his legs and leaned his rifle carefully next to his side. "Had a nice time with Leonhart, then?" he leered at Rinoa.

"Very nice, thank you."

"Did he hit on you?"

"No, he did _not_. He's a gentleman." She flicked her hair behind her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at him. "You shouldn't get into the habit of judging other men by your own standards, Irvine."

Selphie laughed loudly. "I think she's got the measure of you, Irvy."

Undeterred, Irvine proclaimed, "There ain't no other men around here who are up to my standards, my darlin's."

"Ugh." Rinoa wrinkled her nose and turned to Selphie. "How on earth do you stand this all day long?"

Selphie shrugged happily. "Hey, Irvy's fun." She bestowed him with one of her genuine, hundred-watt Selphie-smiles, and Irvine found that he could put words to the realization that had been creeping up on him: _She gets me. There's no drama, no mind games, she just plain gets me, inside and out. Now if I could find a real-life woman like that..._

The voices echoing from the corridor, Quistis' clipped tones and Squall's monosyllabic replies, were growing louder, though the words remained indistinct. Selphie floated over to the far wall of the chamber. "I wonder what's going on with those three. Hey, want me to go and listen?"

"Yeah, knock yourself out," replied Irvine, still distracted by his thoughts, and she promptly disappeared through the wall.

It was several minutes before she returned, evidently excited to make her report. "Quistis and Zell have been recalled to base. Turns out they're stationed a couple of hours south of here for a different mission, together with another squad led by some guy called Seifer. It's been quiet over there, so they went off on this GF hunt for the day, but Seifer buzzed Quistis and told her that things are hotting up, so she has to 'get her ass back to camp with Zell, and leave Leonhart to play GF-catcher on his own'. Quistis isn't too happy about it, but Squall says it's fine, he's got the most experience in GF containment anyway, and they were still arguing about it when I came back here."

"Hmm. What about Dincht?"

"His cute lil' eyes are just kind of darting back and forth between the pair of them, like a kid watching his mom and dad have a fight."

The clack of Quistis' boots approached, and the three SeeDs returned to the chamber. Irvine rose to stand, and Quistis walked over to him, a fierce frown digging into her brow.

"Zell and I are departing at this point," she announced briskly. "Mr. Kinneas, I'll like to formally request you to provide backup to Squall when required."

Squall cleared his throat with obvious irritation. "Quistis, I told you I don't need-"

Irvine cut him off with a charming smile flashed in Quistis' direction. "Certainly, ma'am."

"Then it's settled. Don't forget that you are responsible for a civilian. Evacuate Rinoa to safety if necessary. We're leaving, Zell." The three SeeDs faced each other, spines straight, and saluted solemnly. Irvine received a backwards glance from Quistis and somewhat unexpectedly, a curt nod from Zell, and then there was nothing left of them but rapidly fading footsteps.

* * *

The group dynamic was markedly different, now that Squall's presence meant that conversation could not flow freely between Irvine, Selphie and Rinoa. While Irvine was already accustomed to ignoring Selphie in front of others who couldn't see her, Rinoa was clearly finding it more difficult, and occasionally reacted to Selphie's off-the-cuff remarks with nods or stifled giggles, eliciting curious glances from Squall. Irvine kept himself amused by picking off every single monster with long-range shots before Squall could even draw his gunblade. Unlike Quistis, Squall did not attempt to pull rank or even pass comment, but the intensity of his sidelong glares at Irvine seemed to be rising to dangerous levels. Irvine enjoyed this immensely, wondering how long it would take for the taciturn SeeD to explode.

They reached an intersection of two corridors, and Squall held out an arm to stop Rinoa and Angelo from walking any further. Irvine knew at once from Selphie's strangled gasp and the missing section of tiles torn away from the floor of one path, revealing an impossibly dark chasm stretching down underneath, that they had reached their destination.

"Oh, wow," she breathed. "This is it, Irvy. That's the ledge where Herbie was hanging on. It's... it's under there."

"We need to get below," he told Squall. "The GF's lair is down there."

"What's your basis for saying that?"

"Inside information."

Squall frowned at this unhelpful reply, but did not press further, and stepped cautiously over to the ledge. He withdrew a small compass-like instrument from an inside pocket in his jacket and pointed it down at the pitch-black abyss below, his eyes intent on the readout on the tiny screen.

"What've you got there?" inquired Irvine with interest. "Has SeeD developed a machine that goes 'beep' when GFs are about? Handy."

Squall shot him a scathing glance. "It's a bit more complex than that." He straightened up. "However, there _are_ some unusually high ether-energy readings coming from down there. You may be onto something, Kinneas." He crossed his arms and looked thoughtful. "Right. We'll need some illumination first." His eyes flicked hesitantly to Rinoa. "Rinoa, um, would you be able to direct a Thunder spell down there so I can get an idea of how deep it goes?"

She smiled, clearly pleased to be asked. "Sure, Squall." Rinoa flexed her fingers and a bright white sheet of lightning shot out into the cavern, lighting it up for one brilliant moment. Irvine craned his neck to see if he could spot any traces of a monster, but saw nothing. _Thundaga,_ he noted with amusement. _She sure is keen to impress him._

"Show-off," grinned Selphie, and Rinoa raised a smug eyebrow at her while Squall blinked in the aftermath of the blinding flash.

"Thanks. That was... more than adequate." He stepped back. "My estimate is around thirty feet for the drop." He removed his pack from his shoulders and started to remove and unwind a compact aluminium chain ladder.

"Squall..." said Rinoa tentatively, "I could, uh, I could use Float to get us all down."

He looked up in surprise. "Oh... yeah. Yeah, that would work."

She knelt to the floor and ruffled Angelo's fur. "You'll have to stay up here, baby. Don't worry. We'll be back for you soon. You'll be safe. _Stay_ , okay, Angelo?" Angelo responded with a small whine, but settled down onto the intact tiles away from the ledge, laying her head on top of her paws. Rinoa patted her. "Good girl."

She stood and faced the two men. "Okay, so... I think you'll need to link arms with me. If you don't mind, of course."

Irvine smiled broadly. "No problem, ma'am," he said, offering his arm.

Rinoa scowled slightly. "I know _you_ won't mind. I was talking to Squall."

Squall subtly reddened and held out his own arm, and she slipped between them, clutching onto Irvine on her left side, Squall on her right. Rinoa closed her eyes and tilted her head back, and Irvine was startled by a whooshing sound in his right ear, as well as the tickle of... of... feathers?

A vast pair of pure white, heavenly soft wings had unfurled from Rinoa's back and were beating slowly behind the three. Selphie let out a long, impressed "Ooooooh", and Irvine craned his head to check out Squall, who was utterly transfixed by the tiny, downy feathers falling to the floor, his expression dazed and awed. Rinoa seemed to notice this, and smiled to herself secretively as she launched carefully into the air, floating down slowly into the chasm below.

Selphie hovered downwards at the same speed, facing the three with a beaming smile of pure delight. "Woo! I can't believe I have someone to fly with now! Why didn't you tell me, Rin?"

Irvine felt his feet make contact with the ground; no longer stone tiles, it felt more like densely-packed earth. A swoosh at his side told him that Rinoa's wings were folding away, and she released his arm. Then, without warning, his LED lights stuttered and flickered out, as did the one he had lent to Rinoa, and he was left blinking in the darkness. Except that it wasn't... quite... darkness. There was no discernible light source, and yet he could see... He could see...

Slowly-beating sinewy black wings, tinged with red; razor-sharp red claws, teeth - _far_ too many teeth - and piercing blood-red eyes, those eyes, they were... horrifying...

Selphie, still facing him, was immobile, her eyes frozen wide in fear, and she whispered, "No..."

A bone-cracking voice resounded in the cavern, the worst voice Irvine had ever heard, or would ever hear.

_Who seeks Diablos?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full points to anyone out there who guessed back in Chapter I that it was Diablos who undeadified Selphie all those years ago. I haven't played the remaster, but I understand that Diablos' key abilities (Enc-half/Enc-none) are pretty much redundant now due to the additional features, so this chapter is dedicated as a tribute to the big spiky fella. You're still badass to me, Diablos!


	6. Chapter VI

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter VI**

_Who dares to stand before Diablos?_

The huge beast arched its scaly neck, and sprung off its hind legs to hover in the air, its wingspan filling the shadowy space of the cavern from wall to wall. Irvine winced at the sight of the black talons that protruded from each long, red finger.

Squall stepped forward, his face devoid of any trace of fear or foreboding. "I do, as a representative of Balamb Garden," he said coolly. "I challenge you to face me in combat. If you are defeated, you will submit to our organization and fight alongside us as an ally of the Garden organization. Do you accept these terms?"

Diablos' blood-red eyes glowed as it bent its head to examine Squall, who stared back, unflinching.

_As you wish, foolish cub. If you are so reckless as to face me, so be it. I shall not lose to one of your kind. You will know only death here._

Selphie had inched slowly around to look the GF in the face. Irvine could only see the back of her head, but he thought she was shaking. Diablos peered around Squall and reached out one curled claw in Selphie's direction, almost as if to caress her. She backed away, so far that the barrel of Irvine's rifle passed through her shoulders.

_And you, little one? You have ventured here before. Have you come to reclaim your full self? Do you think I will give it to you?_

Irvine had the odd experience of Selphie moving straight through him. With her ragged breathing audible at the back of his neck, he protectively stepped forwards and tried his best to return the great beast's gaze.

Squall half-turned his head and shot Irvine a puzzled glance. "What does that mean? Have you been here before, Kinneas?"

"Not me."

Squall frowned and turned back to face Diablos, holding his gunblade out in front of him. "Rinoa, you don't have to be part of this. Leave now, and get yourself to safety."

"Absolutely not," came Rinoa's defiant voice at Irvine's side. "We came here together, and we'll fight together. I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't argue with her, Leonhart," Irvine advised. "You won't win, and we haven't got time."

Squall's only reaction was a slight nod, his eyes not leaving the twin red beams of Diablos' demonic face.

"I... Irvy, there's still time to run..."

"It's gonna be alright, Sefie," Irvine whispered. "Just leave it to us."

_Your companions have made their choices, young cub. Your fates are sealed. It begins._

Diablos' huge wings beat twice, and the beast let loose a howl that made the hairs on Irvine's neck stand on end. He steadied himself and took aim with his rifle, drawing it up to his eye-line.

Squall was faster to start the attack, leaping towards the GF and slashing at its red abdomen with his gunblade, the vibration of the barrel juddering against the demon's flesh. Diablos screamed and tossed him aside with a powerful forelimb. Squall deftly landed on his feet, and wiping a trickle of blood from his cheek, charged to slice at the beast again.

Irvine fired one round after another, but his bullets bounced off the hard cartilage of the creature's wings and the scaly armor that sheathed its head and back. The shots that hit Diablos' underbelly were making contact, he thought, but the beast seemed barely affected. Rinoa's silver Pinwheel was having a similar lack of success. Only Squall's attacks - and probably less than a third of them - were making any headway. _Gonna be a long-ass fight if we don't find a better way to damage it,_ Irvine told himself as he refocused his aim on the lower abdomen.

It was clear that Rinoa shared his impatience, as the crack of a Thundaga spell assaulted his ears, swiftly followed by a burst of flame that wreathed around the demon's hovering form.

The Firaga slowly dissipated, and Diablos crouched, its eyes burning bright with fury.

_You have brought a Sorceress to subdue me?_

Irvine wasn't sure if the question was directed at Squall or Selphie, but neither answered.

"I brought myself." Rinoa's voice was clear and confident, and Irvine admired her for it. "And no, I didn't come here to hunt you. But I'll fight anyone who threaten my friends."

Diablos reared up to its full height, contemptuous. _Has sorcery fallen so far? In times past, these little ones would have been your servants._

"Well, they're not. We're a team. Do you surrender to us?" she challenged, her face fierce, but Irvine could see that her hand clutching the Pinwheel was trembling.

_No sorceress of old would ask such a foolish question. You are barely more than a hatched chick, winged one. It is you who will surrender your life to me._

Diablos raised one muscular forearm in the air, and blackish-purple magic began to mass around the tips of its claws. In the next split second, a dark sphere crashed into Irvine's body with full force, and he knew from Rinoa's cry and Squall's muffled grunt that it had hit them too. The sphere closed around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He felt as through he was trapped a hundred feet down under water, the pressure crushing him, threatening to smash his skull into shards, the surface too far away for him to reach, to ever breathe again-

And then it was gone. Irvine sunk to his knees, spluttering as he struggled to fill his lungs with air once more. The unbearable heaviness had lifted, but his strength was sapped in a way he had never experienced. He thought he would stumble like a newborn foal if he tried to stand.

"What the hell was that?" he rasped.

"Gravija," panted Squall in reply, clearly fighting for air himself. "Don't try to move yet. You'll need a moment."

A cloud of pale blue burst forth from Rinoa's direction, and Irvine found that he could rise to his feet, after all. The balm of Rinoa's sorcery flooded his body with welcome relief, and as Irvine gasped out his thanks, he realized the depth of his folly in thinking he could go into this fight on his own. Without magic, even. What an arrogant idiot he'd been, to assume that his rifle and a couple of Hi-Potions in his pocket would have kept him from death for more than a few minutes. He would have been toast, and he'd have let Selphie down in the worst way possible.

Well, he wasn't going to do that now. He would damn well keep his promise to get out of this place alive. Diablos would have to suck it up. Irvine rummaged in the inside pocket of his coat and drew out two rounds of Pulse Ammo. Rare as chocobos' teeth, he'd been saving it for a life-or-death fight. This was one, for sure. Life, death, or _undeath._

He loaded the Pulse Ammo and fired. A white-hot beam, several feet in diameter, surged towards Diablos. The recoil almost threw Irvine to the floor, but he kept his grasp as the bright light tore into the GF's chest. With Diablos' scream ringing in his ears, he reloaded and fired the Pulse again.

"That's it, Irvy! It's hurting him!" Selphie cried. "Have you got more?"

"Only two rounds left," he muttered with gritted teeth. If only the stuff wasn't so damn hard to get hold of. He used the last two in quick succession, hoping it would be enough.

The final beam faded away, leaving Irvine blinking as his vision readjusted. Diablos, its eyes fixed on Irvine with uncanny, unblinking precision, spread its black wings and hung frozen in mid-air. For one jubilant moment Irvine thought it was defeated. His triumph was short-lived, however. He soon noticed the thick, humming vibrations that were slowly filling the cavern. Diablos remained completely still, and ominously silent.

Irvine didn't like the feeling of dread that was creeping up his spine. "What's it doing?"

Selphie floated in front of him and screamed, "Irvy, get _down!_ Rinoa, get Squall out of the way! I think it's about to do its- its undeady ray thing!"

Irvine hurtled to the ground and rolled towards the wall, while Rinoa's snow-white wings burst forth again as she forcibly grabbed a clearly surprised Squall. She leapt up to the ceiling, the SeeD trapped in her tight embrace, and pressed both their bodies as close to the rock as she could. Irvine involuntarily screwed his eyes shut as Diablos roared, a piercing shriek straight from the bowels of hell, and an eerie translucent blackness filled the cavern. When he opened them, the dull gloom of the tomb had returned to normal, Rinoa and Squall were floating back down to the floor, and Selphie was hovering in front of Diablos, a mix of terror and defiance on her face, visible only in profile from Irvine's position.

The demon stretched a black talon towards her again. _Little one, why do you interfere? What I took from you, I can take from your companions. Would you not welcome that? Surely you do not prefer to be alone in your fate?_

Selphie's face was stricken. "I don't- I wouldn't-"

"Don't engage with it, darlin'," Irvine called out to her, ignoring the look of utter confusion Squall threw at him from ahead. "It just wants to mess with your mind."

"Yeah... You're right, Irvy." She turned, and drifted to his side, her face ashen.

Squall disengaged himself from Rinoa's arms and picked up his fallen gunblade. "Kinneas, what's going on?" he demanded.

Irvine stood, grabbing his rifle from the floor. "Listen, if it does that attack again, you _do not_ let it touch any part of your body. Even your pinky finger or your damn earlobe. Got it, Leonhart?"

He knew Squall would have a lot of questions later - if there _was_ a later - but the SeeD was sharp enough to appreciate that now was not the time for explanations.

"Understood." Squall raced back towards the GF, his blade outstretched.

Irvine turned to Rinoa before he reloaded his rifle. "You okay?"

She met his gaze with haunted eyes. "Yeah. That was too close. We have to make the next attack count."

He agreed, and cursed his regular ammo for being so ineffective. Irvine took aim anyway, his bullets like pinpricks against Diablos' thick hide. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Squall thrust and slashed, and some of his hits made Diablos stagger back. Irvine kept on with his rain of bullets. Diablos retaliated by throwing a Demi spell in his direction; it wasn't as bad as Gravija, but it knocked the air out of him, and he was again grateful for the healing magic that Rinoa cast immediately afterwards.

Selphie hovered over him as he scrambled to his feet. "We're lucky she's here. You make sure you thank her properly, after this."

"You bet I will."

Selphie's mouth dropped open, and Irvine spun round to see that Rinoa was rising towards the ceiling, her wings spread wide, her eyes closed.

"Is she-"

"Looks like she's about to do somethin' big, Sefie." He ducked and pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes.

The cavern seemed to disappear as stars - how could there be stars? - filled Irvine's vision. Rinoa raised one hand, and a volley of blazing rocks crashed down onto the GF's form, battering its wings. Diablos snarled and tried to hurl them away with its claws, but Irvine could see that the beast was sustaining heavy damage.

"What is this?" Selphie whispered at his side, awed.

"Think it's called Meteor. Damn. She's stronger than she lets on."

The cascade of meteors slowed to a trickle, the cavern walls reappeared, and Diablos seized the moment to leap towards Rinoa, both claws outstretched. Irvine fired at it, helplessly, as the demon's piercing talons ripped straight through Rinoa's wings, torn and bloodied feathers scattering to the ground. Rinoa cried out and fought to stay in the air with her now ragged wings, but they were too weakened to keep her aloft. She plummeted.

Squall jumped to catch her, and rolled to the floor to cushion the impact, his arms wrapped around her. Irvine saw a green sheen sweep over Rinoa's skin and her wings. Squall was healing her with para-magic. Irvine watched in fascination as the feathers regrew and knitted themselves together. Rinoa gave a gasp and let her head fall to the ground, her wings vanishing back into her slumped body.

Squall was back on his feet, advancing on Diablos, and Irvine thought he could see sparks flying off the gunblade.

_Does the lion cub imagine himself to be a sorceress' knight?_ the demon taunted. _She will be dead before you have the chance to prove yourself to her._

Magic swirled around Diablos' claws, and Irvine braced himself for another Gravija. Rinoa was too weak, he thought desperately. This could be the end-

Slash.

Irvine gaped as Squall's blade cut straight through the beast's outstretched claw, and three black talons clattered to the floor. The haze of magic vanished in an instant, and Diablos' blood-curdling scream almost perforated his eardrums.

Squall sliced again and again in quick succession, and the screams grew even louder. This was _Renzokuken,_ the most difficult attack in a gunblade specialist's repertoire. Irvine had seen it before, during the G-Garden training camp, but Leonhart had been an awkward, skinny teenage boy back then. Now, he was lithe and fearsome, his impassive face tight with cold, controlled fury, his muscles tensed under his jacket as he sliced through the sinews of Diablos' wings, and the great beast shrieked underneath him, moving to fling him away with its remaining claws. But Squall was too quick, leaping from wing to wing, then onto the enormous demon's spiny head, where he drove his gunblade deep into its hide at the back of its neck.

Diablos howled in rage and - Irvine was sure this time - defeat. A thick red mist swirled around the GF, throwing Squall down to the floor, and the creature crouched, weakened, panting, as its tattered wings and scales repaired themselves.

_Very well. You are strong. I will serve you, young Lion. And your sorceress, if she commands._

Squall stood, and nodded. "From now on, we are allies, Diablos." He set his gunblade on the ground and walked over to where Rinoa lay, unaware that Selphie was already at the girl's side.

Diablos' gaze followed him, but the creature said nothing. Irvine stared at it. This had to be his chance, surely. Now was the time to ask it to release Selphie from her limbo. How did this work? Would a GF only serve the one who delivered the final blow?

"And me?" he said, with forced confidence. "Will you do my bidding, too?"

Diablos' dulled red eyes met his for a moment, alien and unreadable. Irvine opened his mouth to speak again, but the demon's massive form was dwindling, shrinking into nothing, and then all he could see was a small metal lamp.

The lamp rattled on the floor three times and toppled over. Irvine's flashlights flickered back on, and the cavern was silent.


	7. Chapter VII

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Chapter VII**

"Are you okay?"

Squall reached out a gloved palm to Rinoa, who grasped it and pulled herself to her feet.

"I'm fine." She brushed the dirt off her knees and added, "Thanks for healing me."

"I should be saying that to you. It would've been a much tougher fight without your magic. No SeeD could have done what you did."

Rinoa's cheeks flushed pink at the praise, and as her eyes locked with Squall's, Irvine started to feel distinctly intrusive. He turned away to look at the lamp on the floor, taking a few tentative paces towards it.

"Is it inside that thing?" he wondered aloud as Selphie drifted over.

Rinoa joined them, squatting down to peer at the unassuming object. "I think it chose to seal itself."

Squall carefully picked up the lamp and turned it over, examining the battered metalwork. "I think so, too."

Irvine watched him put the lamp away inside his jacket, and knew exactly what that meant: Diablos was now the property of Balamb Garden. He stifled a noise of frustration and straightened up to squint at the area at the back of the cavern, behind where the GF had loomed. In the dim light, he could make out an archway leading to a smaller antechamber.

Selphie followed his line of vision and asked, "D'you think it was guarding something? The treasure?"

Irvine gave a slight nod and ducked his head under the archway to enter the antechamber. The floor of Diablos' lair was scattered with an assortment of tarnished metal vessels, but it was the ceiling that drew his eyes. A huge, smoke-black crystal suspended downwards from above, tapering out into jagged points near Irvine's feet. At first he thought it was opaque, but as he looked closer, there was something...

_Holy hell._ His head whipped round to see if Selphie had followed him. Sure enough, she was already there, floating in mid-air, her mouth agape.

"That's my body! It's my _body,_ Irvy!"

"Yeah, I... can see it."

The glassy eyes of the frozen Selphie within the crystal stared out at him. Unblinking, unseeing. Her hair, her dimples, her yellow sundress were exactly as she appeared in spirit form. Irvine felt himself shudder. Could it be that her original body had been preserved through all those years? Never aging, never decaying?

Squall's footsteps sounded behind, then stopped sharply. "There's a... a human trapped inside?"

Rinoa caught up, and gasped in shock. Selphie turned to Irvine, eyes shining with excitement. "If Squall can see it, that means it's physically there. Irvy! It's really there!"

"Yeah, but..."

"I'm going in, Irvy. This is my chance."

This was all happening too fast. Way too fast. "No!" he protested. "Hold up! You have no idea what will happen! It could kill you!"

Selphie's smile was almost painfully serene. "If it does... that's what I've been waiting for all this time. I'm ready. I'm so, so ready."

"Who the hell are you shouting at, Kinneas?"

Irvine ignored Squall and instinctively reached out to grab Selphie, looking on helplessly as his hand passed ineffectually through her arm. "Sefie... Don't do it. Don't take the risk," he pleaded.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Squall asked irritably, and Rinoa shushed him with a hand placed gently on his shoulder.

"I have to try. Wouldn't you, if you were me? Would you want to hang around forever and ever like _this?_ "

"I- " He understood. Of course he did. But...

"If this is it, well, so long, Irvy. It's been real." Selphie leaned closer to him and winked. "And I gotta say, in four generations of Kinneas men, you were the best lookin'."

Irvine gave her a crooked smile. "That would be a much bigger compliment if they weren't all in their eighties when you last saw 'em."

Selphie grinned. "Hey, Travis was quite the hunk back in the day, you know. But he's got nothing on you." Her grin softened and she looked at Irvine with sincere, loving eyes, and it tugged at his heart.

"See ya around, okay?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

She turned, took a running jump and leapt into the crystal. Irvine watched as her ghostly form was enveloped by the darkness, like fog closing around a ship's sails, and the crystal's surface solidified, obscuring any trace of the corporeal Selphie within.

The silence in the antechamber was oppressive. Selphie's absence loomed large, a sudden inexplicable vacuum that swelled and swallowed everything. Irvine closed his eyes as it consumed him. "She's- she's gone," he whispered.

Rinoa stepped to his side. "Have faith, Irvine. It's not over yet. I'm certain that she's still there."

Squall cleared his throat. "Rinoa, _what-_ "

"Leonhart, will you just shut your damn mouth until we tell you to talk?" Irvine snapped.

Squall's retort was lost in the sound of the explosion that followed. Irvine, Rinoa and Squall ducked and shielded their eyes as the crystal shattered, black shards rocketing across the chamber.

Irvine opened his eyes as soon as he thought it was safe, and was startled by the sight of Selphie, a yellow blur hurled backwards out of the smashed remains of the crystal, gasping fiercely for air.

There was an unmistakeable thud she crashed down onto the floor of the antechamber. Irvine ran to her, his mind hardly daring to register what had happened. _She hit the floor. She touched it._

Selphie lifted her head from the ground and raised herself stiffly onto hands and knees.

"I can feel! I can touch!"

Her eyes met Irvine's, and she gave a wild cry of unbridled joy. "I can touch _you!_ "

She came hurtling towards him at full speed, and launched into him, knocking him roughly to the floor, where she immediately began prodding and poking his chest and stomach with a frenzied ferocity that put Irvine terrifyingly in mind of the thousand-needle attack of a cactuar. When he attempted to push her hands away, Selphie cackled maniacally and switched to something far worse - tickling him. Her fingers dived into his armpits and ribs, and Irvine writhed underneath her as he tried in vain to shove her off. " _Sefie - for - fuck's - sake_!" he panted heavily, punctuated by involuntary bouts of freakishly high-pitched giggles that were somehow escaping from his own mouth.

He finally got a grip on her, under her arms, and heaved her off with as much strength as he could muster. Selphie, entirely undeterred, leapt up and moved onto Rinoa, dragging her to the ground as the other girl convulsed in paroxysms of laughter.

Irvine picked himself up off the cool floor. "Dammit Sefie, you couldn't just have settled for a hug?" he wheezed.

Selphie released Rinoa from her tickle-torture, and advanced threateningly on Squall, wiggling her fingertips, an unholy gleam in her eyes. "You're gettin' some too, Squall!" she announced with glee.

Squall stepped quickly backwards, panic writ large on his face. "Get away from me! Who _is_ she?"

A still-laughing Rinoa lurched forwards and seized Selphie's arms, pulling them behind her back. "She's Irvine's personal ghost. But not anymore, I guess."

Irvine strode towards the struggling girls and pulled Selphie away into a hug, relishing how solid she now was, the warmth of her skin, and the thundering of her heart in her chest. "No more tickling," he said sternly into her ear. He held her tightly as they listened to Rinoa's faltering attempts to explain Selphie's story to Squall, both laughing silently at the succession of bewildered expressions that crossed the SeeD's face.

Afterwards, Irvine, Selphie and Rinoa sat sprawled out on the earthen floor while Squall paced up and down, dictating a report into a small silver device. "The recently-identified GF Diablos appears to be in possession of an attack which, according to personal testimony, has the ability to sever the victim's consciousness from their body. This effect can last decades, possibly indefinitely, until remedied. Therefore I strongly recommend that Diablos is used _only_ under strict laboratory conditions until its attack parameters are fully understood." He flicked a button and shoved the device in his jacket pocket.

Irvine stretched his arms. "Anything special about the lamp?"

Squall drew it out of his pocket and examined it briefly. "Not externally. It's copper."

"The stuff on the floor... The rest of it looked like copper, too," said Rinoa. She rose to her feet and headed back into the crystal shard-strewn antechamber, returning with a dented cooking pot and an old kettle in her hands.

Selphie reached out for the kettle and looked it over. "Definitely copper. We used to have one like this when I was a little girl."

Some sort of realization flitted across Rinoa's face. "Ohh... You know, I think I read about this. Copper was almost impossible to mine on the Centra mainland, so copper items were among the most prized possessions of the Centran people... Huh."

Irvine took the kettle out of Selphie's hands and snorted. "Yeah? I reckon we could probably get about seven hundred and fifty gil for the whole lot. Maybe even enough to cover a night at the inn in Shenand, if we're really lucky."

Squall glared at him. "You're not selling the lamp, Kinneas. It's coming back to Balamb Garden with me."

"Knock yourself out, Leonhart." He smirked. "Literally. That damn GF will make you forget any of this ever happened."

Squall frowned. "What?"

Irvine ignored him and walked through the archway to take a look at the hoard. Selphie stood at his side, staring at the 'treasure' and trembling slightly, though whether it was in rage or amusement, Irvine was not entirely sure.

"Copper. I spent a hundred and twenty years as a ghost for goddamn _copper._ I sure wish Herbie was here so I could kick his ass."

* * *

Rinoa's healed wings carried the three back up to the main passage, where they were greeted by an enthusiastic Angelo before embarking on the return journey through the tomb to the surface. The trip was slower than before. Irvine and Rinoa were fatigued from the battle - if Squall was, he didn't show it - and Selphie's legs were weakened after over a century of disuse. She ended up crashing down the floor several times after attempting to float through the air out of sheer habit, loudly expressing her frustration with the laws of gravity that she was once again governed by. Irvine was torn between sympathy and wanting to laugh. It reminded him of watching his cousin learning to walk many years ago: toddle, toddle, splat. But with a lot more cursing, he observed.

Squall suggested taking a break when they reached the large chamber where Quistis had received Seifer's message much earlier in the day. Irvine sunk to the floor gratefully as Selphie flopped down beside him.

"I'm _hungry,_ " she complained. _"_ Wow, I'd forgotten how that feels. I'm starving. Like, haven't-eaten-since-the-days-of-the-Dollet-Empire starving. Irvy, gimme your bag."

"Sure, but there's only two of the energy bars left, I'm afraid."

Squall shrugged off his own bag and set it on the floor. "I'm still carrying the lunch packs Quistis and Zell were going to have. You can have those if you like."

Irvine leaned towards Selphie and said conspiratorially, "I wouldn't bother, Sefie. SeeD rations are famously cardboard-like."

Squall made an annoyed sound in his throat. "As it _happens_ , these are leftovers from a barbecue we had at the camp last night. Seifer managed to barter two chickens from a local farmer-"

Selphie lurched forwards and grabbed Squall by the fluffy collar of his leather jacket. Her voice came out as a low, guttural growl. " _Give. Chicken. Now_."

Squall looked for a moment as if he was about to tell her to ask nicely, but evidently thought better of it and wordlessly handed her two stainless steel boxes from his bag. Selphie tore off the lids and immediately began tucking in, stuffing strips of charred meat into her mouth with her bare hands.

She devoured the contents of the lunch boxes with relish as the other three watched with varying degrees of fascination and distaste. The moans of ecstasy and satisfaction emerging from Selphie seemed to have come straight out of a particularly bad porno. Irvine was amused, and very slightly titillated, but he was not oblivious to the sidelong glances she was receiving from Squall. He leaned over and said in a low tone, "Sefie, darlin', your sex noises are making Leonhart uncomfortable."

" _Sex_ noises?" she repeated loudly in a scandalized voice, and the look on Squall's face was priceless. Rinoa turned faintly pink and giggled.

"Was there no such thing as table manners a hundred and twenty years ago?" Squall asked acidly.

"Don't see any tables here, sonny." Selphie pointed a leg of cold chicken straight at his chest, her mouth still full. "You try not eatin' for over a century, then get back to me, okay Squall?"

No further comment was passed on Selphie's gluttony, and after she was finished she cheerfully offered the chicken bones to Angelo, who strained eagerly towards them against Rinoa's arms clamped around her neck. Rinoa explained how cooked bones can splinter in a dog's mouth and cause choking, while Squall silently packed away the boxes, casting disapproving glances in Selphie's direction.

The long climb up to the surface continued, the musty corridors empty apart from the carcasses of monsters Irvine and the SeeDs had dispatched on the way down. When the dim light of the entrance finally came into sight, Selphie gave a small cry and ran into the late-afternoon sunlight, throwing herself down on the grass. She ran her fingers over the soft green blades, hungrily inhaling lungfuls of cool air. Even Irvine took a deep breath, savoring the freshness of the outdoor air after the dankness of the tomb. Selphie rolled onto her back and gazed up at the royal blue of the darkening sky with an expression of complete peace and happiness.

Irvine wanted to let her roll around for as long as she liked, and a large part of him wanted to roll around with her. But the night would set in quickly from now on, and the hike back to Far Harbor was a long one. "Sefie, we'd better be on our way."

Squall adjusted the pack on his shoulders. "We all should. I'm due back at the SeeD camp."

"So I guess this is where we part ways, huh?" Irvine said. He didn't even have to look at Rinoa to feel her face drop. Squall's eyes were steadfastly avoiding her direction, too.

Squall straightened and gave Irvine the SeeD salute, his palm facing towards his chest. "Thanks for the backup, Kinneas."

Irvine tipped his stetson in response. "Likewise."

Squall turned to Selphie. "And you, err... well, good luck with being alive again."

"Thank you, Squall." She clapped him heartily on the shoulder, and Irvine watched him flinch slightly.

"...Rinoa." There was something helpless and floundering in the SeeD's eyes as he finally turned them on the one he didn't want to say goodbye to.

Rinoa gazed up at him. "Thank you for everything, Squall. If you're ever in Deling City... maybe we could..."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Or if I came to Balamb..."

"Would you?" he said, too quickly, then looked down at his boots.

"I'd like to." Rinoa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What I mean is, I'd like to see you again, Squall."

"...Me, too."

Irvine saw the depth of the yearning in Squall's eyes, and said quietly to Selphie, "Let's give them a moment, huh?"

He grabbed Selphie's hand and pulled her back inside the entrance to the tomb, walking far enough in so that Squall and Rinoa were completely out of sight.

"Aren't we gonna peek?"

"Nope. Leonhart'll freeze up if he knows we're watching." Irvine reached down and tweaked her nose. "Now that you're not invisible anymore, you'll have to kick your little habit of being a voyeur, y'know."

"Hmph. Guess there are downsides to being alive, after all." She gave a resigned laugh.

"Plenty of upsides, though. Hey, why don't you tell me what you're most looking forward to eating? We can make a grocery list for when we get back to Deling."

"Ooh. Good idea." Selphie's eyes glazed over as her mind set to work. "Strawberries. Smoked Balamb fish. Roast potatoes. The really crispy ones, cooked in goose fat. Hot buttered toast. A cold glass of fresh milk. Oh! Irvy, I really want to try ice cream."

"Never had it?"

"We didn't have freezers back in my day." She wagged a finger at him. "You don't know how easy you young folk have it. Meat and fish had to be eaten the day it was killed, you know. Unless it was salt-cured." She blinked and added lustily, "Hot damn! I gotta get me some Trabian wiener. It's been _way_ too long."

It took every ounce of self-control that Irvine possessed not to crack a dirty joke at that, but he heroically restrained himself. "C'mon. I think we've given those two enough time for a decent game of tonsil hockey."

They emerged into the dusk to see Squall and Rinoa both slightly pink in the face. Selphie waggled her eyebrows at Rinoa, whose eyes were fixed on a spot in the mid-distance.

Squall ran a self-conscious hand through his hair. "Well, I- I'd better get going."

Irvine felt something nagging at the back of his mind, and sighed when he realized it was his conscience.

"Ah, dammit. Leonhart, a word."

He beckoned Squall over to one of the monoliths that framed the tomb's entrance, and Squall followed warily.

"What?"

"You ever heard that there are hordes of crazy conspiracy theorists out there who say that GFs steal your memories and eat your brain cells?"

Squall regarded him with the withering arrogance of a Balamb-raised SeeD. "Yeah, I have heard something like that."

"Well, those crazy people are _right_. And the only folks who don't believe it are you suckers at Balamb Garden. Look, do yourself a favor. If you want to remember what it feels like to kiss Rinoa, stay unjunctioned when you're not in battle, all right?"

Squall reddened immediately. "That's not... What do you-" he stammered.

Irvine clapped him on the shoulder. "Just think about it, okay? Those things are a goddamn menace. Cid Kramer's got a lot to answer for." He looked back at the girls and eyed Rinoa meaningfully. "And I'd say you're onto a good thing there, so... don't screw it up."

Squall folded his arms and stared hard at Irvine, then one side of his mouth slowly crept up into a half-smile. "Thanks, Kinneas. I'd say the same to you, but nothing about you and Selphie makes the slightest bit of sense."

Irvine exhaled through his teeth, then gave Squall a genuine smile for the first time. "You're damn right about that. C'mon. Can't keep the ladies waiting."

* * *

Rinoa was quiet after Squall's departure, and Irvine noticed that Selphie had sympathetically slipped her hand into the girl's own.

"You heading to Far Harbor with us?" he asked. "We're gonna try and hitch a ride on a squid trawler. It might not be the level of comfort you're accustomed to, but-"

Rinoa snuck a glance at Selphie, who nodded. "Let's all go back together. My sailboat's docked near here, so..."

Irvine blinked at her. "You've got your own yacht?"

Rinoa scuffed her boot in the ground, a dull flush creeping up her cheeks. " _Yacht_ makes it sound bigger than it is. It's only a six-berth, thirty-two footer, it's pretty cramped-"

Irvine laughed. "Hell, Rinoa. If there's one thing that's more annoying than a rich girl, it's a rich girl who tries to pretend she's just the same as us normal folk." Selphie nudged him sharply in the ribs, and he added pleasantly, "And we'd be honored to accept your invitation to board your yacht."

Rinoa led them north to a small fishing dock, where a group of fisherman were loading up two battered trawlers. The fishing boats appeared all the more shabby next to the sleek white yacht that bobbed gently on the waves in the now pitch-black night.

"This is it. The _Angel Wing._ " Rinoa stepped onto the jetty, and Angelo bounded ahead with an excited Selphie at her heels.

Irvine gave a long, low whistle. "Nice little dinghy you got here."

As Anglo and Selphie climbed up onto the deck, Rinoa paused at the ladder and turned to face him. "Listen, Irvine. I do know I'm privileged. I'm trying to make a difference in my own way. The treasure that I find, I sell and give the money to orphanages and domestic shelters in Deling and Timber. You didn't know that, did you?"

Irvine shrunk under the intensity of her gaze.

"I'm not just a rich girl playing a game," she added. "I'm... I've got my principles. I do what I can."

He took off his hat and turned it in his hands. Had she really taken his teasing seriously? ...Of course she had. And if he was honest with himself, it wasn't entirely good-natured teasing. Irvine knew he had a chip on his shoulder about social class.

"I'm sorry if I've offended you." He meant it.

She shrugged. "It's not a matter of offense. It doesn't bother me, much. I know what I am. I'm not telling you this to seek an apology. I just... Well, seeing as we're friends now, I don't want you to misunderstand me."

"I owe you more than an apology, Rinoa. Walking into that fight without magic would have been... I'd have ended up dead." He reconsidered. "Or _un_ dead. Either way, Selphie would never have forgiven me."

Rinoa gave him a knowing smile. "Good thing I was there, then, wasn't it? I wouldn't want to see Selphie when she's mad."

He agreed, and followed her up the ladder. He joined Selphie in admiring the yacht's interior. The _Angel Wing_ was not lavish or elegant, but warm and welcoming, with a modest galley where Rinoa immediately set about preparing three mugs of steaming coffee. Irvine accepted it with gratitude and made himself at home on the padded seating by the galley table.

The coffee did little to stop the weariness from seeping in, and all three agreed to sleep first and set sail in the morning. Rinoa opened a cupboard to haul out a stack of blankets, and showed Irvine and Selphie to the guest sleeping berths.

When Irvine sat down on heavily on one of the beds and kicked off his boots, Selphie was gazing at herself in the mirror of the small bathroom, tracing a finger in wonder down her face, with Rinoa standing next to her.

"So this is me?" Selphie asked quietly.

"That's you," reassured Rinoa. "You really forgot what you looked like?"

"I haven't been able to picture myself for over a century. And photographs were only for rich folks back then. I never had the chance to have any taken of me. My own image of my face just gradually... faded away."

Rinoa smoothed a hand over Selphie's hair in a comforting way, her smile almost maternal. "Well, what do you think?"

"I'm _pretty_ ," said Selphie with genuine surprise.

"Of course you are," Rinoa laughed. "Isn't she, Irvy?"

Irvine grunted in affirmation. It bothered him that more than a few fishermen at the dock where the _Angel Wing_ was moored had clearly noticed Selphie's prettiness. He didn't like the idea that she would now be a target of admiration from men: predatory men, men who only wanted a one-night stand... _Men like me,_ he realized, and it was not a pleasant truth to confront. Until now, she had been _his_ Selphie, his alone, and as much as he was glad to see her regain her life, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to lose her.

* * *

A rousing chorus of seagull cries and Angelo's barks dragged Irvine back to consciousness at dawn. Rinoa and Selphie greeted him in the galley with a plate piled with toast slathered in blackcurrant jam, and he could have fallen to his knees and wept at the sight of it. He worked his way through four slices as Rinoa showed Selphie the nautical chart for the South Galbadian Sea, and Selphie enthusiastically proclaimed herself First Mate of the _Angel Wing._

Irvine lay on the gently swaying deck, letting the sun warm his bones, while Rinoa taught Selphie how to steer the tiller. There was something about the way Selphie laughed in delight when the sea spray hit her squarely in the face that made him feel like he never wanted the journey to end. When they took a break for lunch he stood close to her, and the warmth that radiated from her body still took him by surprise. She had a scent now, too. How was it that hair that had not been washed for more than a hundred years could smell like spring blossoms? Why did he want to touch her so much now? Just because she was alive?

Selphie was oblivious to his conflicted emotions, but he thought that Rinoa noticed. She even winked at him once, when he was trying not to seem like he was sniffing Selphie's hair. Irvine scowled at Rinoa and returned to his sunbathing spot on the deck, with Angelo curled up at his side.

They docked at Shenand Town late at night, and Rinoa hugged Selphie tightly on the jetty as they made their farewells.

"You're not sailing back up west to Deling?" Irvine asked.

"No, I've got some business in Timber to take care of. And after that..." It was dark, but he was sure she was blushing. "Well, Squall said they'll be back at Garden in two weeks. So I think I might sail on to Balamb. I..."

Irvine grinned and grasped her hand warmly. "Leonhart'll be waitin' for you with open arms, darlin'."

"Oh, shut up, Irvine." She snatched her hand away then frowned up at him, uncertain. "Do you really think he will?"

"Damn sure of it. You two take good care of each other now, huh?"

Rinoa beamed. "Thanks. I'll be in touch. Selphie gave me your address."

Irvine looped an arm around Selphie's waist as they waved goodbye, the _Angel Wing_ slipping quietly away from the shore. She wiped away a tear from the corner of one eye and sniffed.

"What now? I mean, after we get back?"

He turned to face her, placing both hands on her shoulders. "Listen, Sefie... I'll be going back on duty from the end of next week. So... You can live in my apartment until, well, whenever."

"Really, can I?"

"Yeah, it's not like I'll be using it."

"I could get a _job_ ," Selphie said excitedly, her eyes shining.

"If I set you up with a fake ID card and a social security number, sure, you could. I know a couple of guys who deal in stuff like that. Shouldn't be too hard."

"That would be amazing, Irvy. Oh my god. I'm a real person!"

"Yeah. You are." He took her hand in his and squeezed her slender fingers. "C'mon, Sefie. Let's go home."


	8. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I make no claim whatsoever to the characters or world of Final Fantasy VIII, which is the property of Squaresoft/Square Enix.

* * *

**Epilogue**

"Morning, Irvy."

Her voice cut through his fog of disorientation, while he tried to recall where he was.

_Home. Together._ That was it. They were home.

Irvine vaguely remembered that he'd promised to himself that he would sleep on the sofa, and let her take the bed. Somehow, many hours after parting ways with Rinoa, he and Selphie had managed to stumble in exhaustion up the steps to his apartment, and all intentions of chivalry forgotten, he must have crawled into bed with her. The color of the sunlight seeping in under the blinds suggested it was probably mid-afternoon.

Selphie's eyes were as bleary as his own. She gave him a sleepy smile. Her hair, always immaculate when she'd been a ghost, had worked itself into a nest of unruly curls, most of them flicking in the wrong direction. Irvine thought it was the cutest he'd ever seen her.

It was different to before. She was real. She was warm and breathing. She had that vaguely sweet Selphie scent. She was beautiful, and she was so close-

Without thinking much - what was there to think about, anyway? - he brushed a stray curl away from her forehead, leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

Selphie pulled back, her expression uncertain, almost anxious.

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing you. You don't want me to?"

The idea that she might not welcome his advances had not even crossed Irvine's mind. Surely she could feel what he'd been feeling ever since the fight with Diablos? It couldn't be just him. It was too big, too overwhelming, to be one-sided.

She inched backwards from him. "I... There's kind of an age gap, you know?"

"Well, yeah." He frowned. "You're still physically a teenager, and I'm twenty-six. Does that bother you? 'Cause I definitely don't see you as underdevelop-"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Hey, what's a century or thereabouts between two consenting adults? I sure as hell don't care about that." He tried to move in for another kiss, but she edged away.

Selphie looked uncomfortable. "But... I watched you grow up."

"Yeah, and I'm definitely not a kid anymore." He grinned salaciously. "Want me to show you?"

She made to get off the bed, and he reached out to place a hand on her hip, which she gently removed. "I'm not one of your conquests, Irvy."

_So that's the problem. She already knows what I'm like._ He gave a small sigh. "Of course not. You're much more than that."

Selphie smiled brightly, apparently relieved that he was getting her point, and sprung off the bed. "Yeah. I'm your family, right?"

He stared after her as she grabbed one of his towels and headed for the bathroom. Being friend-zoned was one thing; he had some experience of breaking through that, and knew it could be surmounted. But family-zoned? _Damn._ This was going to take more than his usual stock of seduction techniques.

* * *

Over the next few days, Irvine lost his will to charm Selphie into bed. He even retreated to the sofa at nighttime without complaint. He wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't that he was happy with the family-zone. There were times when his urge to touch Selphie became so powerful that he had to stomp out of the apartment, inventing some errand or other. He let his lust simmer under the surface, and was surprised to find that something else was growing alongside it. Something warm and safe and grounding, something that told him sternly that Selphie was not to be treated like the other women he'd been close to over the years.

He supposed it was love. Probably. He didn't really know what that was supposed to feel like. If this was it, well, it was... nice. He could live with it.

She had no idea, of course. She loved him, he was fairly sure of that, but not in the way he longed for.

The day before he was due to return to his regiment, Irvine entered the living room to find Selphie curled up on the sofa watching _Deling Afternoon Delight,_ her damp hair wound tightly around large pink rollers. He stifled a chuckle. So that was how she achieved her gravity-defying bounce.

"Here you go. Your ID card." He brandished a piece of plastic bearing the words _Republic of Galbadia Citizen Registry_ , and a photo of Selphie's face.

She leaped up and grasped it excitedly. "Aww, Irvy, you kept my real name! I'm still Selphie Tilmitt!" Her eyes shone with delight.

He shrugged. "Didn't think it would be a problem. It's not like there are any records of you."

"I thought I'd have to be, y'know, Bubbles van Houten or something."

Irvine snatched the card out of her hand and held it between two fingers, a few inches above her head. "Want me to cut this one up, and make you another, Bubbles?"

"No! This is great." She grabbed the ID and cradled it in both hands like a precious gem. "I can do anything! I can be a doctor! A helicopter pilot-"

"Sefie, you haven't even got a high school diploma."

She pouted and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. "Can't you fake one up for me?"

Irvine shook his head firmly. "No way. You want knowledge, you'll have to acquire it through the usual route. I won't be responsible for you crashing into an airplane or... injecting patients with orange juice, or something. Get some casual work first, and save up to go to night school. Okay?"

"Okay." She reached out and pulled on his ponytail. "You're so sensible, Irvy."

"Damn right. One of us has to be."

* * *

He packed his bag that night, and stood for a few moments in the doorway of the bedroom, watching her sleep. He smiled to himself as he remembered how creeped out he'd been at the idea that she was watching _him_ sleep, back when she'd first hurtled into his life.

Now he was the creepy one. He'd happily watch her all night.

She shifted and rolled over, and he slipped quietly into the living room. From tomorrow, he would be back in the rigidly structured setting of the G-Army, with nothing so confusing as love, lust or longing to trouble him. He'd be told to shoot at things, and he would shoot at them. Be told when to sleep, when to wake, and what to eat. No decisions. Easy.

He'd leave Selphie here, and get on with his life. It would be easy.

Except for when he thought about her.

_Well, better not think about her, then._

* * *

_Six Months Later_

"Honey, I'm home!" Irvine called as he closed the apartment door behind him.

He set his military duffel bag down heavily on the kitchen floor, kicked off his mud-splattered boots and slid off his gloves.

Laid out on the kitchen table was a letter from Rinoa, and a blank notepad of paper and pen suggesting that Selphie intended to write a reply. He scanned the letter, noting the multiple instances of the word 'Squall' and far too many exclamation marks. He grinned. _Still besotted, then._

Selphie came bounding from the bedroom, delighted surprise on her face. He was inordinately pleased to see that she was wearing one of his old t-shirts, which hung down almost to her knees, practically obscuring a pair of bright green shorts.

"Irvy! I thought it'd be another two weeks!"

"Came back early. How's your job going?"

She beamed at him. "Awesome. Serving ice cream to people all day long is the best job in the history of everything. I'm a Bringer of Joy. I see it in their eyes, Irvy. People's hearts sing when I hand them a cone."

"I don't doubt it, darlin'. But it ain't because of the ice cream. It's your smile."

"Oh, stop it, you big ol' charmer, you."

Irvine winced at the sharp elbow that made contact with his ribs. He watched her as she made her way across the kitchen and pulled out two mugs and coffee apparatus. She had absolutely no idea how beautiful she was, a trait that he found both endearing and frustrating. What would it take for her to realize how serious his feelings had become?

"So how long are you back for this time?" she asked.

"For good. I handed in my papers." He pulled off his tattered coat and laid it over a chair. "Got an honorable discharge and a military pension."

She looked up at him with concern. "Why? Did something happen?"

Irvine shrugged. "It was time. When you know it's time, it just is."

Selphie held his gaze for a few moments. "What are you going to do?"

"For a living? I don't much care. Anything. But I want to live with you. Funnily enough, I missed you."

"Aww. I missed you too." She turned back to the coffee.

He tried not to grind his teeth. "I mean, I _really_ missed you."

Selphie put the coffee spoon down. She walked up to him, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him lightly on the cheek, pulling back with a sweet grin. "And I really missed you."

_Damn. She still doesn't get it._

He decided to try a different tack. "Sefie. Have you, uh, got a boyfriend?"

"No-o-o..." She cocked her head in confusion. "Irvy, what's going on with you?"

"I want to _live_ with you. As man and... hundred-and-forty-year-old-woman." He closed his eyes, and told himself to go for it. _All the cards on the table, Kinneas._ "As man and wife, one day, if you'll have me."

"I... Wow."

The silence that hung between them was torturous for Irvine. He knew he should wait for her to reply, to let her take her time, but he was too impatient.

"So what do you think?"

Selphie gaped at him. "But... what about all your other girls?"

"There haven't been any," he answered truthfully. "Apparently I became a one-woman guy at some point about six months ago. Believe me, it's as much of a surprise to me as it is to you."

"You really want to... I mean, with _me_?"

He couldn't gauge her reaction, other than sheer astonishment, and it was killing him not to know how she felt.

"Yeah. You and only you, Sefie. Think you might be able to give us a chance?"

Selphie stared at him for far too long, while he implored her with his eyes, willing her to see that he was genuine. That he wouldn't let her down. That he loved her.

She slowly reached up and took off his stetson, placing it daintily on her own head. There was a glint in her eyes he'd never seen before, and he dared to let himself hope-

"I might have to sample the goods before I make a decision," she said with a suggestive wink, and he grinned.

"Not a problem, ma'am."

Irvine picked her up by the waist, and laughing, she wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her into the bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. The hat fell, forgotten, to the floor as Selphie tilted her head back to welcome his kisses at last, returning them with the kind of fierce passion he'd daydreamed about every day and night for the last six months.

And that was when Irvine Kinneas knew for sure: there was no sweeter gift than the prospect of an eternity with Selphie Tilmitt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And let's leave them there, shall we?
> 
> Thank you for reading to the end of this fic! I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> I love Irvine and Selphie. I thought I'd only write Squinoa fics when I started posting, but damn, this was fun to write. I really enjoyed having Irvine as the protagonist. His mix of swagger, insecurity, and perceptiveness is so appealing. He was one of my favorites back when I first played the game as a teenager. I plan to write something else with these two in the canon universe next time. -colobonema


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